


The Last Kingdom One-Shots

by writer_rach



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:01:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24010024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writer_rach/pseuds/writer_rach
Summary: One-Shots for various characters in The Last Kingdom. This one is for fluff and cute romance drabbles. There will be another for 18+ later on, if it is requested. My requests are open!!
Relationships: Finan (The Last Kingdom)/Original Character(s), Osferth (The Last Kingdom)/Original Character(s), Ragnar the Younger (The Last Kingdom)/Original Character(s), Sihtric (The Last Kingdom)/Original Character(s), Uhtred of Bebbanburg/Original Character(s)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 90





	1. Finan- First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: CONTAINS BRIEF MENTION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT
> 
> Scene: Aria is the blood sister of Uhtred and Ragnar's adopted sister. This begins when Sven has just been prevented from killing Uhtred right after he lands back in Northumbria after being a slave. There are some other cute sibling moments with her Ragnar, and it includes a scene from season 2. Fluff with Finan. So much fluff with Finan.
> 
> Word Count: 2080

Aria dropped down from her horse and raced to her brother, Uhtred, who looked nothing like he had when they had last seen one another. He clung to her arms for a moment.

"It is Aria, Uhtred," she whispered, stroking his hair. "It is your sister."

She felt Ragnar kneel beside her, and he held them both until Aria could not hold him any longer as he wept. To see her once-strong brother on his knees in tears, she could not bear. Aria stood and looked over just as another slave put his sword to the slaver's neck and sliced through him, saying something that she could just barely hear over the wind.

The slave turned, stumbling slightly, and his eyes looked to Uhtred, and she watched as the two of them smiled at one another. They must have become brothers during their time together. She looked between them for a moment before the other man stumbled and collapsed to the ground, and she made her way over to him.

"Careful," she said, kneeling beside him and helping him to sit better on the grass.

She watched as he sat there for a moment, leaning against her, tears filling his eyes, but he did not speak, he simply closed his eyes.

"I will get you some water," she said, beginning to stand, but he stopped her.

"No, please," his rough and tired Irish accent surprised her. "Your touch is much gentler than the whips."

At that, Aria froze, looking into the deep brown eyes of the man she had never met before, and she tried to place a smile on her face, but the pain in her eyes only mirrored his own, and she soon looked away, looking around at the men clearing away the dead bodies, and Ragnar still holding her brother. She felt tears cloud her vision, and she blinked them back.

"I am so sorry," she whispered. "I am so sorry this has happened to you."

"It will only make me stronger," the man replied. "Do not worry, milady."

"Aria," she replied, wiping away her half-shed tears. "My name is Aria."

"Finan," he replied before turning away to cough.

Aria looked up to see her horse standing on the hill and she whistled, calling him to her, and she gently helped Finan to sit on his own as the horse approached. She stood and pulled her water pouch out from the saddlebag, and she returned to where Finan sat and helped him to drink.

Soon enough, he was well enough to stand, and so they moved to where Ragnar and the other soldiers were building a fire.

Hild and Aria made the soup quickly, and they passed it out quickly and quietly to the men before sitting themselves down around the fire. It was silent. The events from the day were sobering, and Aria kept looking to her brother's face, wanting him to look at her, but he had not once laid his eyes upon her face or looked her in the eyes.

"Halig," Uhtred's raspy voice finally spoke.

"He has been taken down, wrapped, and buried," Ragnar replied. "With shield and sword."

"You will say words for him, Hild?" Uhtred continued.

"I have. I will, always,"

"Northumbria is torn," Ragnar spoke, trying to fill the silence and catch Uhtred up to the present on what he had missed. "Aelfric did not come to Guthred's side. Erik and Sigefrid and Kjartan: they do what they please," Ragnar paused, looking to Aria and then to Hild as the silence continued. "You haven't asked how I come to be here."

Aria watched as Uhtred turned his head and looked at Ragnar.

"Alfred," Ragnar continued with a slight chuckle. "Alfred sent us. I believe the King of Wessex cares for you."

"You're Uhtred's brother," Finan's voice spoke up. It was a question, directed at Ragnar.

"I am," he said.

"You look nothing like each other," he said, causing Aria to smile to herself.

"No, but he looks very much like his sister," Ragnar said, nodding his head to where Aria sat. Aria gave a small smile, looking to her brother for support, but again he did not meet her eyes. She looked away again, instead meeting Finan's eyes as he studied her for a moment.

"Uhtred, you should eat," Hild spoke, trying to hand him a bowl of broth. He simply shook his head at her.

"Finan," she said, looking over at him.

"Oh, we will eat, lady," he said. "But our tummies are small, and our feet have barely touched dry land. It'll take a little time to find them."

"Are you his brother?" Ragnar asked suddenly, looking to Finan.

The two of them held eye contact for a moment before Finan responded.

"We are," he trailed off, trying to find the right words. "We are bound, I would say."

Aria looked down at her hands, her lips pursed as she took it all in. The past months had brought her and her brother nothing but pain and suffering and anger, and she could not handle it. She suddenly felt herself beginning to panic, her mind flashing back to the night that Aelfric had used her for his own pleasure, and she suddenly stood, violently, startling the others.

"I need to walk," she stammered, turning and leaving the fire, walking a ways away, trying to find her breath. The salty air filled her lungs as she suddenly fell to the ground, far enough from the campfire that she could not be heard, and she wept.

She wept for her brother, for Finan, for every slave on the ship, for Halig, for Gisela, for her family. She wept for them, but she also wept for herself. She was young, barely of age to marry, and yet she had completely lost her innocence, and she was terrified. She sat there for some time, her face buried in her hands until she heard someone approaching.

"I don't want prayers, Hild," Aria spoke, sure that it was the kindly nun.

"I don't either," Ragnar's voice spoke as he sat beside her. "They've all gone to sleep, so I came to find you."

He outstretched his arms and allowed her to curl up in his embrace. He had always cared for her, even when she had been a young child, and now she was grown up, he still wanted to care for her.

"You've changed," he spoke gently. "These past months, waiting for our brother have shown me that," he said, stroking her hair gently. "What has happened to you, sister?"

Aria clenched her jaw, and she sat back out of his arms and looked him in the face before speaking.

"Aelfric," she said quietly. "When he was meeting with Guthred," she stumbled slightly before continuing to speak "He came to my bed chamber and..." she blinked back the hot tears that threatened to stain her face. "I woke and he had tied me down and-"

Ragnar did not need to hear anymore, that she knew. Aria chose instead to turn away from him, wiping her tears away.

"Why did you not tell me?" Ragnar whispered.

"I told Sihtric," Aria replied. "He was going to kill Aelfric himself, but I told him not to," she turned to Ragnar and sighed. "I have come to terms with what has happened to me, but it hurts to speak of. I will get my revenge, Ragnar, I promise you that," she paused. "But for now, I am tired, and I want to rest."

Ragnar nodded and began to stand, but Aria shook her head.

"Will you stay with me? I do not wish to be alone tonight," she whispered.

Ragnar sighed and nodded before laying down and holding Aria in his arms.

"I will always protect you, baby sister," he whispered. "Always."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Aria woke to find Ragnar had left, and the men had gathered and were speaking together at the campsite. She stood and made her way back, getting a handful of nods from the men before she saw Ragnar speaking with Steapa. She scanned the campsite for Uhtred, but he was not to be found.

"Where's Uhtred?" Aria asked, grabbing a little of the soup that Hild had made.

"Sleeping still, out in the field somewhere," Steapa told her as she sat beside him and ate. "The Irishman is the only other person staying with us, and I'm not sure where he's gone off to."

"Will we stay here?"

"We're giving them time to rest. We'll leave tomorrow," Steapa replied.

Aria nodded and finished her food before standing and stretching. She knew she was filthy, so she stood and stretched, making her way to Hild and informing her that she would be bathing in the nearby pond.

She left the campsite, a new dress in hand, and arrived at the stream, altogether very eager to feel clean again. She quickly removed her clothes and got into the cool water, scrubbing and scrubbing herself until she was pink and clean.

After, she dried off and placed on her new dress, tying the waist tight with a rope before turning back to the camp only to come face to face with a clean Finan, all dressed in a new shirt and trousers and shoes.

She jumped back, startled at his sudden appearance.

"You frightened me," she said, stepping backward. She began to stumble slightly and Finan reached out to grab her, but he was still too weak and the two of them toppled to the ground together, making Aria laugh.

"This dress was clean you know," she said, sitting upright and untangling herself from him.

"Was clean, milady," he said. "Was clean." He sat up beside her, clearly a little stronger from the day before, and Aria found herself close enough to be able to study his face, which she did not find unappealing. She took in the scars on his face, his chapped and bleeding lips, and his still-ragged hair and beard.

"You should cut that," she said gently.

"I would," Finan said sheepishly, "But I cannot cut my hair without my hand shaking. I tried," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pair of shears.

"Would you-" Aria trailed off, holding out her hand. "Would you like me to?"

Finan looked at her for a moment before nodding. The two of them adjusted so that Aria knelt in front of him. She began to trim his hair, slowly. It did not take her long to make it look neat, and she even helped him to tie it back from his face. Then, she began to work on his beard, trimming it slowly until it was short and neat. The whole time, she was focused, her fingers sometimes lightly touching his face as she worked.

Once she had finished, she wiped any stray hairs off his face and let them fall to the ground.

"Thank you," he said, taking her hand in his.

She could feel the callouses and scars that littered his hand as he held hers, and she turned his hand over, taking in the weathered and tired look about them.

"I should thank you," she said softly, looking back up at him. "You took care of my brother. That is all I could ever ask for."

"I would give your hand a kiss for your kindness, milady, but that would be rough," he joked, mentioning his chapped lips with a chuckle.

"Then let me dare to give you a kiss, Finan," Aria replied, finding herself drawn to him. She put his hand down lightly before reaching up and placing a soft kiss upon his cheek. She pulled back, lingering for a moment before standing.

"Come, we should return to the campsite," Aria spoke. "And you should sleep as much as possible to gain back your strength."

She offered her hand out to him to help him back up, and he took it, allowing her to help him to his feet. He was much more sturdy on his feet, and it was not long before they returned to the camp. Aria found herself speaking with Ragnar and Steapa for much of the day as Finan and Uhtred continued to sleep. She listening to their childhood stories until finally, the light had fallen again, and Finan and Uhtred joined the camp again.

Aria watched as her brother approached, Hild at his side, and for the first time, he looked at her.


	2. Finan- Home in Coccham

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: None
> 
> Scene: During a season of peace back at Coccham, Aelwynn, Uhtred's sister, finds herself in the company of a handsome Irishman during a celebration.
> 
> Word Count: 1036

Aelwynn left the hall early, her mind wanting peace and quiet. The weather was beautiful, the moonlight shining down on the water brightly. She made her way to the pier, her eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. She removed her shoes and sat, swinging her legs over the edge, toes just skimming the water.

She sighed, enjoying the sound of the owls in the woods, and the laughter emanating from the hall. She was glad for the fresh air and the peaceful times, something much needed after their season of struggle.

"Mind if I join ya?" A rough but kind voice filled her mind. She had heard him coming down the pier, and she turned to look up at the Irishman as he sat just beside her, crossing his legs and looking out over the water in silence.

"I am surprised you're not in the hall," Aelwynn suddenly spoke, breaking the silence.

"I could say the same for you," Finan replied, looking over at her. "What brought you out here?"

"Air," Aelwynn replied. "As much as I enjoy drinking like the rest of them, I wanted to take tonight off," she smiled for a moment, kicking the water with her toe before looking up at Finan. "What brought you out here, Finan?"

"Oh, you know, air," he replied, a slight smirk across his face.

"We both know that's not true," Aelwynn replied, shaking her head.

"You're right," Finan replied, chuckling. They were silent for another moment before he spoke again. "I saw a pretty woman leaving the hall and thought it best to follow her."

"You speak with a suitor's tongue, Finan," Aelwynn said, assuming it to be one of his jests, but when she caught his eyes, she realized that he was completely serious.

"I know that," Finan said.

"Oh," Aelwynn hoped that the redness of her cheeks was not visible in the dim light, for she felt it creeping up her face and covering her cheeks. She found that she did not mind his words, but she was unsure of what to say. "Are you, uh, enjoying being in Coccham?" Aelwynn asked, mentally swatting herself for her awkwardly placed words. She played with the hem of her dress as she waited for his response.

"That I am," Finan replied. "I have friends for my soul, food and ale for my belly, and a pretty woman to look at."

He said those last words cautiously, but a smile on his face. Aelwynn looked up, startled again at his words, but she used them against him, a smirk quickly forming on her face.

"A pretty woman? Do you mean women? After all, the Lady Gisela is quite beautiful," Aelwynn said, studying his face now. It was his turn to stammer slightly.

"I, uh, don't, of course she's beautiful," he replied.

"Oh, so you secretly love her now?" Aelwynn goaded him, enjoying the frustration that was building on his face. "I can just imagine what my brother would have to say about that."

"Oh, dammit woman," Finan swore, running his hand over his head. "Would you just let me talk?"

"I'm sorry," Aelwynn replied, an eyebrow raised, waiting for his words.

"Ever since I met you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen," Finan started. "And now I want the chance to be close with you. Not close like you and Sihtric, but close like..." he trailed off, finding himself rather close to Aelwynn, his eyes looking from her eyes to her lips and back.

"Like what, Finan?" Aelwynn's voice came out in a whisper, feeling the same spark in the air, desperately wanting him to finish what he had begun to say.

"Like this."

Finan's hand went to her chin, holding it lightly before pressing his lips to hers. Aelwynn could feel the scruff of his beard tickling her chin, his slightly chapped lips touching her own soft ones. Within a second, he had pulled away, just far enough so that his eyes could meet hers, making sure that what he had done was okay.

Aelwynn wasn't ready for it to be over, so she leaned into him, kissing him in turn, deepening a kiss she had not realized she desperately needed. Her hand found its way to his chin, the other to his chest as he pulled her closer. His hand was tangled in her hair, the other wrapped around her waist, neither of them wanting to let go.

They kissed for a few more moments before breaking apart, each one stunned but happy with their actions.

"Now that, is a kiss," Finan said, referencing the last time he had asked for a kiss from her. Aelwynn swatted his chest lightly, a laugh escaping her lips. Her hands dropped to her lap, and she looked down, a smile on her face. She didn't need to say anything, for their actions had said it all.

"I plan on getting you in my bed sometime, woman," Finan said, breaking the silence and causing Aelwynn to huff slightly and roll her eyes before pulling her feet from the water. "What?" Finan exclaimed.

"Always one to ruin the mood," Aelwynn groaned, laying back on the wood of the pier. "You may not lie with me until you marry me."

"Is that an offer?" Finan asked, looking down at her and leaning down for another kiss, but Aelwynn shook her head and pushed him away.

"No, it is not," Aelwynn retorted. "And it will do you well to remember who my brother is before you go around talking about kissing me tomorrow!"

She stood from the pier, Finan jumping up quickly beside her.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"I will not give you the chance to convince me to warm your bed tonight, Finan," Aelwynn said. "So I am leaving and returning to my own bed."

"Without another kiss?" Finan asked, a nearly whining tone to his voice as Aelwynn began to walk away. "Come on, woman! Don't leave a poor man hanging!"

"You have to earn your next kiss, my dear," Aelwynn called over her shoulder as she quickly made her way back to the now-quiet hall, a happy smile on her still-flushed face.


	3. Osferth- Barmaid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Familial abuse, mentions of sexual harassment 
> 
> Scene: The OC, Alaina, works at her family's tavern in Winchester. She is working one night when she sees the face of a kind man she once ran into. Fluff and cute with Osferth. Most likely will have a part 2.
> 
> Word Count: 1536

"Get your boney arse up, girl," a loud and cranky voice rose Alaina from her sleep.

She bolted upright, desperately trying to recover her senses, and praying that her mother would not throw water on her as she had done many days when Alaina did not get up immediately. She jumped out of bed, her eyes still slightly blurred with sleep.

"Get your chores done, then it's out on the tavern floor for you," her mother said, tossing her a piece of bread, which Alaina barely caught. Within seconds, her mother was gone again, leaving Alaina by herself.

She was the middle daughter of 11 children. All of her older and younger sisters had been married off or were betrothed, but Alaina had not been allowed to. Her father had insisted on having her remain, and after he had died, her mother had not had the desire to try and marry her off.

She washed and dressed quickly, preparing for another late night at the tavern. She went and began to sweep the floors and wake any drunken men who had fallen asleep there that day. She sighed as they all grunted and groaned at her before shooing them out the door.

Once that was done, she set about work and had the place completely clean before the first wave of drinkers arrived that morning. Once they arrived, her mother shooed her to the back to prepare food, and she remained out of sight.

As evening came, Alaina began to find herself getting nervous. She would be called out to the floor to serve ale because there were so many men. Soon enough, she heard her mother calling her name, and she came out quietly, making her way towards the bar.

Her eyes nervously flitted around the place when they landed on a very familiar and handsome face. He sat with the Lord Uhtred's warriors, as he himself was a warrior and a monk, while they drank and regaled their stories from childhood and from their times in battle. She did not know his name, but she knew that he was kind.

She had run into him a few weeks back on her way into Winchester, carrying a back of herbs for her mother's sore back. She had not been paying attention to her direction and had run right into him and nearly fallen to the ground.

"Whoa there," he had said gently, grabbing her before she could touch the ground.

"I- I am sorry," she had replied, blushing a deep red color from her clumsiness.

He had looked her over for a moment to make sure that she had not been hurt before giving her a kind smile. "I am glad you are alright, my lady."

"Oh, I'm not a lady," Alaina had replied, still conscious of how close they were standing. "I'm just a barmaid," she said, finally looking up to look him in the eye.

"Just a barmaid? I would say you look like an angel," the man had replied.

Alaina had blushed even redder. Most men would just try to grope her and ask her to lie with them for the night. She was plain, with her dress hiding her average hips, her average waist. Her breasts were nothing special, her eyes were a dull brown, and her brown hair was an average length. She did not find herself to be anything special, so hearing his words made her pause for a moment.

"Please do not jest," she said, realizing that he too was trying to get her into bed. "I am not a whore."

"I am sorry, my lady, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I was merely stating the truth," the man had replied. "I will leave you to your peace."

Alaina had watched him walk away, still stunned at the encounter, and it had been ingrained into her memory.

"Are you even listening to me?" Alaina's mother's voice brought her back to the present, accompanied by a slap to the face.

"Sorry, mother," Alaina replied immediately.

"You stupid girl. Go. Take this to the men in the corner," her mother said, and Alaina complied.

Little did she know that someone else was watching her from the other side of the room.

Osferth's gaze followed the beautiful and intriguing young woman as she slipped silently through all of the men like a ghost, or an angel. He was angry that she had been hit, and he now clenched his fists as she handed a jug of ale to a group of men. he only wished that she was beside him, not beside the other men. However, his daydreaming was rudely interrupted by Finan slapping the jug of ale down on the counter.

"Why are we at this bar, again? The ale is terrible."

"I agree with him," Sihtric replied. "You would think that they were cutting the ale in half with water."

"Let's go to a different place, then," Finan said.

"No," Osferth replied quickly. "Let's not."

He didn't want to leave because he did not want to stop looking at the beautiful young woman. He had seen many women in his lifetime, but he had never seen anyone like her.

"Why?" Finan demanded, partially drunk, and completely astounded by Osferth's insistence. "You are not even drinking!"

"I- uh, I like the food here," Osferth said, looking down at the rather disgusting gruel in the bowl before him.

"That's a lie," Sihtric snorted.

"Who is she?" Finan immediately demanded, his head craning to find any woman in the room. He had begun to realize what was happening.

"What? I have no idea what you are talking about," Osferth replied, feeling his palms begin to get sweaty. "You are clearly drunk."

"Oh!" Sihtric said, finally catching on. "You're here for a woman? Osferth is here for a woman?"

Osferth ducked his head down and placed his hands over his face.

"Would you keep quiet, then?" he demanded, realizing that they were shouting loudly about the poor girl. He looked back up discreetly, scanning the room again for her, and when he found her, she was frowning at a handful of men who were clearly trying to get their hands on her.

Finan and Sihtric followed his gaze and when they saw who he was looking at, they were not impressed.

"Of all people?" Finan asked. "She-"

"She's beautiful," Osferth replied.

"That's one word for it," Sihtric replied.

"Shut it, both of you. Can't you see she's uncomfortable over there? We have got to help her," Osferth said.

"She seems capable of helping herself," Sihtric said, nodding his head to where she had bolted out of reach of the men and left the room, heading for the back.

"I'm going after her," Osferth said, ignoring the jeers from his friends and making his way across the room and slipping into the back unnoticed.

It was much quieter, quiet enough that he could hear the soft sniffling coming from the storage room. He followed it and rounded the corner to see the young woman facing the wall, trying to compose herself.

"Are you alright?" Osferth asked. "I saw those men touching you, and I-" he froze when he noted the young woman's reaction

Osferth had startled her, and she whirled around, grabbing a jar of pickled onions off of the shelf, prepared to throw them at her perceived attacker. Osferth held his hands up to show that he would not hurt her, so she froze. Her eyes were blurred with tears and it took her a moment to realize who it was.

"Oh, it's you," she said softly, using one hand to wipe away her tears.

"I would hope that I am not too weak that a jar of pickled onions would have harmed me," Osferth said lightly, breaking the tension.

The young woman let out a small laugh, covered by a slight hiccup from her tears. She set the jar back down on the shelf beside her and sighed.

"I never got your name, angel," Osferth said.

"Alaina, my lord," she replied.

"No need for titles, Alaina. I'm Osferth. Just Osferth," he replied. Once Alaina nodded, he took a step towards her. She subconsciously stepped away from him, not wanting to be taken advantage of. "I will not harm you. I swear, Alaina," Osferth said, taking a step back from her in order to ensure that she felt comfortable around him.

"I know," she replied quietly. "But I do not know you well, Osferth. And you do not know me."

"Then allow me the chance to get to know you," he said. "I find you to be a beautiful woman. One that I would say I should like to know well."

Before Alaina could reply, she heard her mother's voice calling for her, and her face fell.

"I should-"

"I understand," Osferth replied, his face also falling.

Alaina moved past him before freezing at the door.

"My mother allows me to go to the market on Tuesday mornings," Alaina said, feeling bold. "I would not mind if I saw you there."

And with that, she walked out the door and back out to the bar, leaving a smiling Osferth behind.


	4. Sihtric- The Trader's Daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Attempted sexual assault.
> 
> Scene: I feel like I do a good job setting this one up, but Sihtric is very protective of the OC, Cwen, and there's some angst and cute fluff.
> 
> Word Count: 4,080 (omg, but it's so worth it)

Summer was always Cwen's favorite time of year. It was when she was allowed to travel the rivers of the Saxon lands alongside her father, outside the walls where her mother lived in Winchester.

She had started accompanying her father when she had just been 11 years old, and now that she was older, she knew that her time to be married and settle down was coming, so she savored what might be her last voyage with her father.

They had just finished their trip to East Anglia and were sailing down to a small, but well-known estate called Coccham, the estate of Lord Uhtred and his godless warriors. Cwen had been there each year, but only briefly, but it appeared that this year, their stop would last a few days, as they were carrying an important messenger to the lord.

Cwen looked over at the man and wrinkled her nose. He was a burly Saxon man, one she would not like to speak to, and the way he looked at her made her skin crawl. He was very disapproving of her and had muttered under his breath many times about needing to remind her about her place as a woman. She took a deep breath and turned to the bow of the ship, her hair blowing slightly with the light breeze. She heard her father come up behind her, his slight limp giving away who it was.

"Only a half-day's sail away from Coccham, my dear. Then we'll have a place to sleep and warm food in our bellies," he said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

Cwen looked up and smiled at him.

"I will miss this, father," she said, thinking wistfully of her future. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "When I am married, I will miss this. I know you and mother speak of it often."

Her father simply gave her a sad smile, squeezed her shoulder, and placed a kiss on her forehead before turning back to speak with a few of his men.

Of all his children, of which there were 5, Cwen was his favorite. Her older brothers had gone off to be warriors and fight in the King's guard instead of following in their father's footsteps. Her little sister was her mother's favorite, and their baby brother was still too young to be of any use to her father. From a young age, Cwen had followed after her father, toddling onto the boat and trying to help row when she was barely old enough to speak.

Her mother had not been happy about it, having finally gotten a little girl, she had hoped for someone to keep her company, but Cwen had the heart of the sea. Her mother loved her dearly, but she was her father's daughter.

Within a few hours, Cwen prepared herself to approach the small estate of Coccham. The sun had just begun to set, but they were expected, that much she knew. As they neared to dock, she went to the bow and grabbed one of the ropes, preparing to jump up onto the dock and tie up the boat.

As they neared, a few faces came into view. There was Lord Uhtred, with his righthand man, who Cwen had heard was a rough Irishman with a love of women and drink, and his lefthand man, a Dane who, from Cwen's brief glance, was very attractive. Besides the three of them stood a monk. It was an interesting sight to see, but Cwen was focused on the landing.

As soon as they were within reach, she jumped from the boat up onto the dock and pulled the rope tight, quickly tying it to one of the wooden posts.

As soon as she had done that, she brushed her hands together and looked back to the boat as the others began to store away things. She could feel the gaze of the men on her as she stood there quietly, waiting for her father.

She was sure that she was unlike any other woman they had ever seen. She wore trousers instead of a dress, much to her mother's disdain, her long white-blonde hair was unbrushed and windblown, and she was strong and tan, very much an independent woman.

"Cwen," her father's voice came from the boat. He reached his hand out, and she grabbed it, helping to pull him up beside her. "Thank you, my dear," he said before going and greeting the Lord Uhtred.

The burly Saxon man followed close behind, and the two of them made their way to the hall, deep in conversation with Uhtred.

"Who here is in charge of the shipment?" Uhtred's righthand man asked, looking over at the men who were unloading the boat.

"Ah, that would be me," Cwen said, leaning back against one of the posts.

"Uh," came the reply, with a glance being exchanged between the three men remaining.

Cwen raised an eyebrow. "You doubt me? Please, ask any of my father's men who is in charge, and they will direct you right back to me."

"We meant no disrespect," came the monk's reply. 

Cwen looked at him briefly before her eyes landed on the handsome young Dane, and she studied him for a moment, noting the tattoo on the left side of his head. As she looked, his dark brown eyes were looking right back at her. He wore a necklace with Thor's hammer on it, and he stood lazily, with one hand at his side and the other perched on the hilt of his dagger.

"Good," Cwen replied, finally speaking. "The name is Cwen, by the way."

"That's Finan, this is Sihtric, and I am Osferth," the monk said.

Cwen nodded courteously before they began negotiations.

It did not take long for them to settle on a fair price for both parties, and she shook hands with Finan. The whole time they had been negotiating, Sihtric had been silently listening, clearly more the type to remain quiet in situations. Finan seemed to speak enough for all three of the men combined.

As soon as she let go of Finan's hand she turned her head to the men, who had made their way onto the shore to wait for instructions, and she whistled, calling them back to unload the ship. Finan turned to make his way to the hall, motioning for Osferth to follow. Sihtric remained behind if only to direct them where to place the supplies. Once the men had been told what to do, Sihtric and Cwen stood near each other in silence, watching the men work before Sihtric finally spoke.

"So what is a young woman like you doing on the seas?"

"I have voyaged every summer since I was a girl," Cwen shrugged. "I love the seas, the rivers, the boats," she shook her head, a small smile forming on her face. "The freedom of it all." She did not usually speak so freely, but when it came to the things she loved, she could talk for hours.

"Sounds like you should have been a Dane," Sihtric said, letting out a quiet chuckle.

"Father thinks I was one, in a past life," Cwen replied, also laughing slightly. She paused for a moment before looking over at Sihtric. "What about you? What is a Dane doing here, deep into Saxon land?"

"For my Lord," Sihtric said. "I've followed him everywhere. I will follow him anywhere."

"I have heard of the undying loyalty the Lord Uhtred has from his men," Cwen said. "There have been many tales and songs of it."

"I am in songs?" Sihtric asked, his eyes meeting hers.

"The Lord Uhtred, Finan, you, and the monk," Cwen replied. "I would have thought you had created them yourselves, for they simply dote on everything you've done," she rolled her eyes before adding. "Such is the way of men of self-importance."

Before Sihtric could reply, the men had finished and called to Cwen.

"Cwen, where should we go?" They asked.

"Set up your camp by the boat. I will see to it that food and ale, and plenty of them, are brought to you," Cwen replied. "Thank you for your work."

With that, she picked up her pack from the ground and turned to the gate, still walking beside Sihtric. As they entered the estate, she got a few glances from the woman for being dressed as she was, and she rolled her eyes.

"I suppose they are not used to seeing a woman in trousers," she said, letting out a snort.

"I don't think many are, no," Sihtric replied. "Perhaps they are jealous of you."

"I am rather free," Cwen agreed, but her mind went to the conversation she had had with her mother just before she had left that summer. Her mother had sworn that the moment she stepped back into Winchester she would be married to the first eligible man. "But I will not be free for much longer," Cwen sighed.

Sihtric frowned at her statement. "What do you mean?" He asked.

Cwen shook her head, "I am a woman, Sihtric. My mother insists that I marry, and soon. And I believe she is right. No matter how much I dislike the idea, if Father dies, his men would not look to me. I only have authority because my father says I do. The moment he is gone, I will no longer have a place on the sea. I should like to marry while I am still young enough to bring money back to my family."

Sihtric hummed. He was thankful that he was not a woman.

"No matter," Cwen shook herself from her dark thoughts. "I have shared too much with a man I know next to nothing about."

"Then you should learn more," Sihtric replied, but they had nearly arrived at the hall.

"I hope I can, before my father and I leave for our final stop," Cwen smiled.

As they entered the hall, they found Uhtred speaking with Finan while Osferth was showing Cwen's father and the Saxon man where to sleep.

"You've finally joined us," Uhtred called to Sihtric before nodding cordially to Cwen.

"Yes, Lord," Sihtric replied. "The supplies have been unloaded and placed away as requested."

"Excuse me, my lord," Cwen spoke. "If I may, could food and ale be sent out to the men? There are only 6 of them, and they will rest outside the walls of Coccham contentedly, but they would much appreciate something to eat and drink."

"Yes," Uhtred said, motioning to a few women who were working by the great fire to cook. "Please make sure the men outside the walls are given food and ale," he said to the women. He then turned to Cwen. "Your father was telling me of you. I hear you like the sea."

"Yes, Lord," Cwen nodded her head, her hands coming to fidget lightly with her trousers. "I have always enjoyed our voyages."

"That is good," he nodded his head before looking over to where Cwen's father stood. "Come, my friends, let us eat and feast tonight!"

Cwen looked to her father who nodded, and they began to settle in at the table in the hall. Her father had her go somewhere private and wash and she put on the only dress that she had brought with her. Her mother insisted on her 'maintaining her dignity' at all feasts, so she begrudgingly put it on. It was a soft green color, simple, and with a rope to tie around her waist. She even placed her dagger in her bag, praying that she would not need it that night. She raked her hands through her hair to tame it before returning to the hall.

When she returned, she could feel all the men's eyes on her as she approached the table. Finan let out a low whistle, which was silenced by a glare from Cwen's father, Uhtred, and a slap from Sihtric.

Cwen took her seat beside her father and gave him a light smile, she looked across the table, noting that Sihtric was sitting across from her. She also noted that Sihtric's gaze had not left her face. She looked away quickly, and could feel herself flushing red, but soon they began to eat and drink, and the conversation flowed easily.

The men did most of the talking, except Sihtric would occasionally ask her questions quietly as the others talked. She learned that he had been the bastard son of a terrible Dane, and that he had followed Uhtred for many years.

The more they spoke, the more interesting Sihtric became. As the food stopped and the drinking increased, the men began to move about the room as a handful more people came to the hall to eat.

Cwen soon found herself drunk, sitting between Finan and Sihtric as they tried to outdrink one another. Uhtred and her father were sitting nearby, not quite drunk, but thoroughly amused. Osferth had tried and failed to keep up, so he sat there, trying not to vomit up the rest of his ale. Other men had gathered around, and they were talking amongst themselves.

Finan was a loud drunk, and he was nearly shouting in her ear as they roared with laughter at his tale. Sihtric seemed to be spurred on by the ale and by Finan, and he too was laughing loudly. Cwen was enjoying herself immensely. She had never laughed so hard in her life, and she seemed to find everything they said incredibly amusing.

"He shit himself?" She cackled at Finan's most recent story.

"He did, and it was a sight to see," Finan said, nearly crying from laughter.

Cwen sighed, finally calming herself down from the laughter and the ale, and she found herself slouched against Sihtric, her back pressed against his chest. His hand was resting lightly on her hip. These things had not gone unnoticed by her father, who narrowed his eyes as Cwen laughed with the other men.

When her eyes met his, he gave her a stern look, and she came to her senses. When she realized what had happened, she bolted upright, spilling some of her ale on him.

"Oh, good Jesus," she said, and they both stood up abruptly to avoid more spilled ale. She was embarrassed at her actions, and she could feel her father's disapproving stare.

"Take a walk," he said quietly, his deadly voice practically sobered her up completely, and the noise in the hall seemed to become completely silent.

Cwen looked at Sihtric, who clearly had also been really unaware of his actions, and she bit her lip, moving around him and stepping out of the hall. The air was cool against her skin, but the summer warmth kept her from being too cold.

She stumbled away from the hall and sighed, trying to rub the drunkenness out of her eyes and out of her head. She had not made it very far when she heard someone coming behind her. She looked back, but not in time to protect herself.

It was the great big Saxon man, and he grabbed her by the neck and pushed her up against the wall of the hall. He smelled of ale, and his face was contorted with rage. Cwen struggled in his grasp, but he did not let up. She tried to scream, but his grip on her neck prevented any sound from escaping. She reached for the place where she normally held her dagger, but it was not there. She had removed it earlier to put on the dress.

"It is time someone put you in your place. You act like a heathen and a whore, and so that will be your place tonight," he growled.

Cwen struggled against him as his hand went to clamp on her breast, and she tried to choke out a scream as he touched her, his dirty paws leaving bruises on her breast. Suddenly, he was ripped from her, and she doubled over, coughing and gasping for air.

She looked to see none other than Sihtric punching the hell out of the Saxon man. Cwen gasped, realizing that Sihitric would kill him, and as much as she desired that, she could not be the reason Sihtric became a murderer.

"Sihtric- Sihtric, stop!" She said, racing over, trying to pull Sihtric off of him, but she was not strong enough. She clenched her jaw and turned away as the men began to roll around in the mud, each fighting the other.

She raced back to the hall, desperate to find her father. When she raced in, the panicked look on her face showed them that something was wrong. She raced to her father, and let him hold her in his arms.

"The Saxon-" she choked out. "He- he attacked me. Sihtric- he's going to kill him!"

She could feel her father's fists clenched as he let go of her, and he looked to Uhtred, who nodded. Cwen led the men back outside only to see that the two men were rolling around on the ground, and the Saxon man had pulled a dagger on Sihtric.

She froze as Finan, Uhtred, and her father went and pulled the men apart, and the dagger was taken. Cwen could not look either of the men in the eyes, and she watched as her father approached the Saxon man, who was being held by Uhtred and threw a vicious punch, no doubt knocking out a few of his teeth and breaking his nose, if Sihtric had not already done so.

"Father," Cwen begged. She did not want him to become a murderer either. "Father!"

He turned to her, wiping off his hand, and gritted his teeth. He did not give the Saxon man one last look before approaching Cwen and holding her in his arms, just as he had when she was a small girl. She buried her head into his shoulder and cried.

The men around them began to dissipate, and she could hear Uhtred say to tie the Saxon man up. At that, Cwen let out a shuddered sigh of relief, knowing that he would not touch her again.

"Are you alright?" Her father spoke, finally pulling back to examine her.

Cwen could still feel the man's touch on her skin, and she knew that she would most likely have bruises on her neck in the morning, but she nodded.

"I will be alright," she said. "If Sihtric had not come along when he had, I-" she trailed off, shuddering to think of what could have happened.

"Come," her father said. "You can sleep beside me tonight, so that I may keep you safe."

Cwen nodded and followed her father to the hall, where everyone had disappeared. As the doors were shut behind her, she paused at the door to speak with Finan.

"Where is Sihtric?" She asked.

"They're looking over him. He's out in the stables," Finan said.

Cwen looked to where her father waited patiently for her.

"I will be right back," she said to him.

"Cwen-"

"He saved me, Father," she replied. "Please."

He reluctantly nodded and watched as she disappeared from the hall again.

Cwen quickly made her way across to the stables, more cautious this time, in case any other predators were in pursuit.

When she arrived at the stables, she could hear a light groan and Osferth's voice talking.

"Oh it's not that bad, Sihtric, quit your whining."

Cwen rounded the corner to see Sihtric sitting on a stool, his shirt off, a bandage already tied around his arm, and Osferth dabbing roughly at his bloodied face with a wet rag. Sihtric noticed her first, and then Osferth, who stopped his dabbing for a moment.

Osferth looked back and for between them and sighed, putting the rag into the bucket of water and turning to make his way out of the stable. He paused right before leaving and spoke quietly to Cwen, whose eyes had still not left Sihtric's face.

"If you need me, I will be right outside," he said before leaving the stable.

Cwen stood, frozen to the spot for a moment before approaching Sihtric cautiously. She reached into the water and picked out the rag, squeezing out the excess water before reaching for his face. He jolted back at her touch, and she froze, not wanting to hurt him more.

"I'm sorry," she said, going to set the rag back.

"No," Sihtric replied. "It's alright."

Cwen nodded and reached down to touch his face again, making sure that she was gentle. She began to wipe away the blood, unable to meet his eyes as he studied her face. She turned away for a moment to wring out the blood, and when she turned back, the expression on his face was practically unreadable as his eyes had trailed down to her neck, where she knew bruises were forming.

"He touched you-"

"I'm alright," Cwen interrupted. "You were there. If it had not been for you, I-"

"I did not arrive fast enough. He should have never touched you," Sihtric said.

"Sihtric," Cwen said, reaching out and taking his bloodied hand in hers. "I am alright. Thanks to you I only have these bruises. It could have been worse."

"Has this happened to you before?" Sihtric asked.

"Nothing this extreme," Cwen said, letting go of his hand and going back to clean up his face. As the blood was cleared, she noted a handful of bruises and a scratch on his face, but he would be fine. He would heal. She then took his hand and cleaned them, bandaging up the knuckles with a few strips of clean cloth.

Once she was done, she stepped back and sighed.

"You are a good man, Sihtric."

He clenched his teeth. "I saw the way he stared at you all night. And when you left the hall, and I noticed he was missing, I followed. And when I found you, he had you pinned-" his voice dried out. "I wanted to kill him. I have never felt so much rage like that before. I wanted-"

"Thank goodness you did not," Cwen interrupted. "I would not see you kill a man on my behalf."

"You are a beautiful, strong woman, and to lay hands on you deserves the wrath of Thor himself," Sihtric shook his head.

"I think he did feel the wrath of Thor," Cwen said, taking Sihtric's hand in hers. She took a deep breath before tilting his face up to look at her. "You defended me and my honor, and I thank you for that, Sihtric."

"I only did what any honorable man should have done," Sihtric replied, fully aware of how close her lips were to his. He admitted that it was something he desired greatly, but after what had just happened, he did not wish to scare her away.

"I would like for you to kiss me," Cwen said softly. "Not as a reward, but because I desire it."

Sihtric hesitated before reaching up and touching Cwen's face gently, pulling her down so that her soft lips touched his, pulling her in for a deep kiss. He remained honorable and did not allow his hands to roam across her body, instead choosing to leave one hand on her face and the other in her hand.

Finally, he pulled back, and his hand dropped from her face.

"Thank you," Cwen said softly, having thoroughly enjoyed his kiss. It had been soft and gentle, just like a proper kiss should be. She knew at that moment that Sihtric was a good man, a gentle man, and a man she could grow to love.

She felt herself grow suddenly tired, and she stepped back.

"I should go," she nearly whispered. She did not want to leave him, but she knew her father would expect her, and she too was feeling exhausted from the long day.

"As much as I don't want you to leave my side, you are right," Sihtric agreed.

"Rest well, Sihtric," Cwen said, placing a kiss to his cheek.

With that, she turned and left the stables, giving Osferth a polite nod as she made her way back to the hall. When she finally reached her bedroll, her father gave her a knowing look and a quick kiss on her forehead before she curled up, her weary body drifting off into a deep sleep.


	5. Finan- I Will Always Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: None!
> 
> Scene: Elfswith is the eldest daughter of King Alfred and the Lady Aelswith, and she finds herself falling for a rather handsome Irishman, despite her impending betrothal for the benefit of the kingdom. Fluff. SO MUCH fluff. And you might cry. You'll definitely cry because, well, there's a substantial amount of angst too.
> 
> Word Count: 7840. so much. literally this is so long, but it's WORTH IT (I promise!)

On the day they met, Elfswith could have never imagined what the next year of her life was filled with.

She had spent the day studying boring words and memorizing scriptures with her younger sister, Aethelflaed. As they had finished, the two young women had made a dash for the door, eager to get to the stables for their early evening ride, but were halted by their mother at the door.

"Elfswith," Aelswith called, stopping the girls before they could round the corner, outside of the reading room.

Aethelflaed turned to her sister and raised her eyebrows.

"Yes, mother?" Elfswith asked sweetly, knowing exactly what the conversation would be about. She had just reached marrying age, and her parents were talking of who the appropriate suitor would be, but she spent her time desperately avoiding the conversation.

"We need to discuss your betrothal," Aelswith reminded her.

"I know! I am busy right now, but I will be sure to find time to speak of it with you soon,"Elfswith replied before grabbing her sister's arm and yanking her down the hall before her mother could say another word.

"Elfswith!" Aethelflaed said, giggling. "Mother will be furious."

"I don't care," she snarked back as they made their way to the stables.

Both girls got to their horses and soon found themselves riding out of Winchester, racing each other at break-neck speeds, with their guards trying desperately to keep up behind them.

They spent a few hours outdoors until the sun began to set. They finally came upon the road to Winchester, only a mile's ride from the gates when they came upon a group of men. Almost immediately, Aethelflaed gasped at who it was.

"It is Lord Uhtred," she said, noting the amber hilt on his sword from behind.

Elfswith smiled wickedly and winked at her sister, slapping Aethelflaed's horse on the rear, causing it to race forward and making Aethelflaed shriek. Elfswith knew of the girlhood adoration her sister had for the great warrior, and the shriek had definitely gained his attention and the attention of his men.

She was so busy laughing at her sister's shriek that she did not notice a certain one of Uhtred's men gazing at her intently. Finan's eyes did not stray from her, taking in the sight behind them.

She was a beautiful sight to see. She resembled her sister, except a little shorter. Her hair was down, ruffled slightly from the ride. She sat upon her horse, her hand covering her mouth as her musical laughter reached the man's ears. 

"Hey, stop staring," came a voice from beside him. Sihtric had caught him staring. "That's the King's eldest daughter you know."

"She is-"

"Beautiful, yeah. Well, stop thinking about it," Osferth spoke up.

Elfswith began to ride to catch up with the little band of men and noticed her sister had regained control of her horse. As Elfswith reached the men, with the palace guards in tow, Aethelflaed pulled up alongside her, her face flushed red from embarrassment.

"You are the worst," she hissed.

"Lord Uhtred!" Elfswith called, glancing over at her sister playfully. She moved around the group of men and pulled her horse up to ride alongside the great warrior. "What is bringing you to Winchester?"

"The King has called us for the year," Uhtred shrugged. "And as long as he does not upset me, I will stay."

Elfswith laughed, having spoken a handful of times with Uhtred, "I see," she said. "Unfortunately, my father has a tendency to upset people. We shall have to wait and see," she then looked back to see her sister still red from embarrassment. "Would you mind if my sister and I rode with you back to Winchester?" She asked.

"No, please, my men will enjoy the company of beautiful women," Uhtred laughed.

Elfswith turned and called for her sister to ride forward. Just as Aethelflaed reached the front, Elfswith moved back to ride beside one of Uhtred's men so that Aethelflaed could ride alongside Uhtred. She then looked at all the different men that rode with Uhtred. She had seen them in passing but had never gotten a good look at them.

When her eyes settled upon the man who rode beside her, she almost could not tear her eyes away. He was extremely handsome. He had dark brown hair, slightly shaven on the sides, he had a dark brown beard, and his face had a few scars. Elfswith found him to be very attractive. 

When his eyes suddenly latched with hers, it was only then that she realized she had been staring for far too long so she cleared her throat.

"What is your name?" She asked the man as they rode.

"Finan," he replied. "And you are the Lady Elfswith?"

"Yes, my lord," Elfswith replied, flashing him a bright smile.

"Oh no, call me Finan. Please. Just Finan."

"Then you must call me Elfswith. I insist," she replied in kind, taking in his shocked expression. Royals didn't normally want to be called just by their first name.

"Well then, Elfswith, I am happy to meet you," Finan said.

As they approached the gates, Elfswith was sad to be parting ways with Lord Uhtred and his band of men. She smiled and nodded at Finan to say goodbye before heading towards the stables. The image of a certain Irishman had been ingrained into her head.

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Their next meeting was only a few days later when Elfswith had had enough of her mother's lists of suitors and had decided to sneak out into town to the market. She had covered her face with her cloak, and she moved around the crowd quietly, wanting to remain as hidden as possible. She turned one of the corners before bumping into someone.

"Watch where you're going!" A familiar voice said.

Elfswith whirled around and gasped. It was Finan. Their eyes met, and Elfswith felt a sense of panic filling her, and she glanced around to see if anyone had seen what had happened.

"It's you," he said.

"Hush!" Elfswith hissed, adjusting the hood of her cloak. She grabbed his hand instinctively and pulled him out of the marketplace, not wanting anyone to overhear them. As soon as they were out of the crowd and in an empty alleyway, she dropped his hand and her cloak.

"Please, do not say anything to my parents," she begged him. If they found out that she had been wandering the streets without her guards, she would most certainly be locked in her room. "I don't get to have freedom ever, so I have to find ways to make my freedom."

Finan eyed her, a soft expression forming on his face, "I'll keep your secret, I promise."

"Thank you, Finan," she replied gratefully before coming acutely aware of how close together they were. She took a step back and smiled at him. She found herself wanting to continue their conversation, but she was unsure of what to say.

"I don't think you should be roaming the streets on your own, my lady," he suddenly said. "Not that you can't take care of yourself, but for my own consciousness, someone should accompany you."

"Are you suggesting yourself?" Elfswith asked, slyly, seizing the opportunity to get to spend more time with the handsome man.

"I would not mind spending more time in the presence of a beauty such as yourself, no," Finan admitted, much enjoying the flushed reaction he received from her.

"And I would enjoy getting to know you more, Irishman," she replied, smiling at him. "Should we return to the market?"

"Of course."

The two of them made their way out of the alleyway, slipping quietly into the bustling market. As they walked slowly, looking at each vendor, Elfswith found herself more interested in the man beside her than the market itself.

She began to ask questions of him, getting to know him better. He was kind and very funny, so she found the time slipping by very quickly. He was quick to answer her questions and asked a few of her.

"I'll admit, I'm a bit surprised about you not being uptight," Finan said.

"Uptight?"

"Oh, like, well, your mother," Finan admitted, trying not to offend her.

Instead of offending her, Elfswith burst out laughing loudly, a slight snort escaping her, which she quickly slapped her hand over her mouth, trying to be more ladylike. She was embarrassed and she quickly stopped laughing.

"No, no," Finan said, realizing why she had stopped. "I like your laugh. Don't cover it up."

"Oh please, my mother is horrified whenever I truly laugh," Elfswith said.

"Did I not just say that your mother is uptight?" Finan said incredulously, making Elfswith giggle. "Do not be embarrassed by your laugh. I find it an honor that you enjoy what I like."

There were many more of these moments, Elfswith found herself being able to relax around him, and her years of faked laughs, ladylike conversation, and fake smiles all melted away. He made her feel comfortable and very, truly happy.

As time slipped by, Elfswith only realized how late it was when the sky around her began to darken, and she knew that she would most definitely be late for supper.

"Finan I should-"

"I know," he replied, a smile on his face. "Thank you for your time and your kind presence, my lady."

"Oh Finan, as I told you before, call me Elfswith," she replied. "Besides, I should like to call you my friend. You have made my outing very pleasant."

"And you are a good woman," Finan said, nodding his head to her. "I'd like to see you again."

Elfswith found herself smiling at his words, but she did not want to give in too easily to him. "Then I can only hope you will find me again," she said before turning and walking back to the palace, a light spring in her step.

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A few weeks passed, and Elfswith found herself dreaming of the man she had only spoken to a few hours. She barely knew him, but she found herself wishing to see him again.

After morning prayers, Elfswith had been cornered by her mother, who was intent on making sure a suitor was chosen for her. Elfswith was rather unwilling, but she obliged, agreeing to meet with whomever her mother selected once a decision had been made.

She only managed to escape the long discussion when her mother and father were called away by the guard, Steapa. She made her way out of the palace once more, only this time making way to the orchard run by the nunnery. As she passed by a few women, she nodded and smiled, happy to spend time alone for once.

She convinced the guards to stand outside of the gates that lead to the orchard, and she was left to her own devices. After nearly an hour picking apples and humming lightly to herself, she was struggling to reach one of the apples, when suddenly a hand snuck up from right behind her and plucked it from the tree.

Startled, Elfswith whirled around only to come face-to-face with the Irishman. She had not heard him coming towards her in the tall grasses. He had a handsome smirk on his face, which made Elfswith roll her eyes as he offered the apple.

"I suppose you would like me to thank you," she said, taking it and placing it into her basket.

"A thank you kiss would be appreciated," he replied, causing Elfswith's eyes to widen, and she flushed a bright red color.

"Finan!" She exclaimed, swatting him lightly on the arm. "Need I remind you that I am a lady? And a respectable lady at that."

"I meant no disrespect, Elfswith," he said, her name rolling off of his tongue easily. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

"It's my favorite place to be when I am in Winchester," she replied. "It's peaceful, and I am allowed to be without my guards."

"I see," Finan replied. "Then I should leave you to your peace."

"Wait, no!" Elfswith said, stopping him mid-turn. At her outburst, she hesitated as he turned back to look at her. "I uh, enjoy your company."

"I enjoyed speaking to you the last time," Finan referenced the hours they had spent together in the marketplace. "I'd like to do it again."

Elfswith shook her head, brushing her hair back with her hand. "What are you doing here? And how did the guards allow a man to pass through?"

"I saw that they were the guards that had been with you on your ride, and I figured I'd find you here, so I snuck past while they were talking to some pretty little nuns," Finan shrugged.

"You were seeking me out, then?" Elfswith turned away from him to reach up and grab another apple from the tree.

"Maybe. I don't have much time, but I like my eyes to look at pretty things whenever I get the chance," he said, cheekily.

"And as I said before, I find myself enjoying your presence," Elfswith replied as she turned to put the next apple in the basket. She looked up at him and noticed his cocky smirk, and she shook her head. "Please do not make me regret saying that, Finan."

"Oh, you will not," he replied, stepping a little closer to her. His face got drastically close to hers, his breath on her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "I will be sure that you won't."

And with that he stepped back, seeing Elfswith's wide eyes and flustered face. He smiled at her and gave her a little bow. "I look forward to our next meeting, Elfswith."

And with that, he walked away leaving Elfswith longing to see him again.

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She got her wish, and not too long after, as when she returned to the palace, she discovered that her father had invited the Lord Uhtred and three of his men to join them for dinner in two days' time. She waited impatiently, and on the day, she made sure that she was well-groomed and poised for dinner. Just before she left her room, she grabbed a small piece of parchment and wrote a small note on it and folded it, hiding it in the belt of her dress.

As she arrived at dinner with Aethelflaed at her side, she found that the others were already sitting, and Finan himself was sitting across from her seat. She smiled at her mother and father as she walked in, and she took her seat, desperately trying not to show too much attention to Finan.

Her father sat at the head of the table, Uhtred and Aelswith at his side, and then Aethelflaed and Edward on either side of them. Then it was Elfswith and Finan and beside them, the monk Osferth and the Dane, Sihtric.

"Let us pray," her father spoke.

Elfswith did the sign of the cross and bowed her head as her father prayed. It was a rather long prayer, perhaps because Alfred was insistent on making Uhtred a Christian, but it gave Elfswith a chance to peek across at Finan. As soon as she looked up, she realized that he too was looking right back at her, and she quickly looked away and closed her eyes, her ears burning.

As soon as her father was done praying, Elfswith took a deep breath, said Amen, and opened her eyes. She looked down at her bowl, finding it unappetizing as was usual. She listened as the others began to eat around her, and she took a bite of her gruel.

Soon, Uhtred and Alfred began to talk amongst themselves, and she looked to Osferth, who sat beside her and smiled.

"How is your life with the Lord Uhtred, as a monk?" She asked.

"It is not bad. He is a good man and a great warrior to follow," Osferth replied. Before Elfswith could continue her conversation with Osferth, Finan jumped in.

"It wasn't always for you, baby monk? You should tell her about the time-" he was cut off by the Lady Aelswith looking over at the loud Irishman disdainfully.

"Sorry, lady, I'm an Irishman," Finan said up the table. "We're naturally loud people."

Elfswith looked up at her mother and frowned. "Mother, dinnertime is a chance for us to get to know our friends and allies. I should like to hear these stories, granted, they should be appropriate for dinner conversation," at her last word, she flashed a warning glance over to Finan.

"Your daughter is right. Let her learn of the reasons that men follow Uhtred," King Alfred responded, giving his eldest daughter a smile.

Elfswith smiled back at him, ignoring her mother's frown and turning back to Finan, Osferth, and Sihtric.

"What about you, Sihtric?" She asked, continuing her earlier question. "How is your life with the Lord Uhtred?"

"It is good," he replied. "He treats us well, and he is a great warrior."

"I see. And you, Finan?" She asked.

"I agree with them," he said, clearly wanting to add in a joke, but he glanced up at the silent Aelswith and shut his mouth.

"Tell me about the Irish, Finan," Elfswith said.

"Oh there's nothing to tell, he said. "We're a bunch of brawny fighting bast- men, fighting men," he said, quickly correcting himself, but in the process, Elfswith found herself giggle at his words.

Her giggle did not go unnoticed by Aethelflaed, who sat beside her, or by Sihtric and Osferth, who both shot glances back and for between the two. Elfswith quickly smothered it, finding herself rather uncomfortable at the looks.

"Oh, yes," she said, feigning disinterest. "And are you a Christian, Finan?" She asked.

"Oh yes, the Lord is my God, but I fail at my piety every day. I should ask you to pray for me, Elfswith, if you have the time," his usage of her first name instead of her title also did not go unnoticed, with Sihtric going and smacking Finan beneath the table.

"I will keep that in mind this evening," Elfswith said, deciding that it would be best if the conversation ended before she said something stupid and caught her parents' attention.

The conversation flowed between the king and Uhtred, occasionally bringing up the politics of Winchester, and on other occasions bringing Uhtred's men into the conversation. Elfswith found herself stealing glances at Finan from across the table, unaware that Aethelflaed had noticed every single one. Before long, the dinner was over, and they stood, about to part ways.

As each person said goodbye personally, Elfswith found herself standing at the door as the men left the hall, but just as Finan approached her to say goodbye, she angled herself so that her mother and father would not notice her taking his hand and placing her note inside with a small smile and a cordial nod.

His eyebrow shot up in surprise, but he nodded in kind and left the hall. As Finan fell out of sight, he opened the letter and read it, a smirk on his face, which did not go unnoticed by the others in his group.

"What is that?" Uhtred asked as they walked from the palace.

"It's a note from the Lady Elfswith," Sihtric spoke up. He had noticed the interaction. "What does it say?"

"She would like for me to meet her," Finan said, trying to play off the note.

"Finan, that is a bad idea," Osferth cautioned him. "She is a princess, not a whore. You cannot risk damaging her reputation. The King would have your head."

"I know she's not a whore," Finan snapped back defensively. "I'll just go, see what she wants, and come back. I'm not laying a hand on her."

"But you think she's pretty," Sihtric said, crossing his arms across his chest. "And you have a habit of touching pretty things."

"Oh stop it," Finan replied, smacking him. "She's different. Like Osferth said, she's not a whore."

"Finan-" Osferth started.

"Oh stop it, you little runts," Finan snarked back, beginning to veer away from the group, despite their clamoring protests. "I'll be back soon."

With that, he parted, heading straight for the place where she had said to meet her.

While this was going on, Elfswith had escaped her sister's rapid interrogation of her interaction with Finan, playing it off as they had only met on the ride into town, and she had insisted that he call her only by her name. She made her way down the hall towards her room and sent away her ladies and guards for the night.

As soon as they were gone, she raced to the window and swung it open, peering outside. She was lucky to be on the bottom level of the palace, and when she peered out, she saw a familiar figure only a few steps away.

"Finan?" She whispered, catching his attention.

He turned around, a smile on his face, and he approached the window. Elfswith stepped back, inviting him in, her mind not caring at all about her reputation in that moment. She knew that she would keep her hands to herself, and she trusted that he would do the same.

There was something about him that made her inexplicably happy. She adored his attention and how he enjoyed her for who she was, not for the lady she pretended to be each day. As soon as he stepped inside, she shut the window behind him and turned in time to see him looking around the room.

"This is-"

"Too much," Elfswith said, shaking her head. She had always felt that she lived in a dream compared to the reality of many of their people. "It is beautiful, but I have always much preferred a more casual place."

"I see," Finan replied. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the note that she had written and opened it, reading a line from the page. "I have wanted to speak with you every day since we first met," he turned around to see Elfswith flushing yet again.

"I had to say something to get you here," she said, quickly coming up with an excuse.

"I would have come regardless of what you had said," Finan replied.

Elfswith shook her head and moved around Finan over to where her ladies had left out a handful of her pillows and things. She began to put them away, hating to have others do it for her. As she did so, Finan took a seat in one of the chairs in the room, watching Elfswith work. She felt his gaze on her, and she paused.

"What?"

"I was just admiring you," Finan said nonchalantly. "Not only are you a beautiful woman who speaks well, listens to my stories, laughs at my jokes, but you also work when you otherwise would not have to."

"Well, you flatter me too much, Finan," Elfswith replied.

"I enjoy it," Finan replied.

As soon as Elfswith was done, she came and curled up in the chair beside him, and the two of them began to speak. They talked for a long time, with much quiet laughter shared between the two of them. Finan was enamored with her. She was unlike any woman he had ever met, and she easily kept up with his devilish tongue and jokes. He found himself wanting her for himself, and it began to be difficult to keep to himself.

Finally, after a few hours, Elfswith found herself tiring, and she yawned, wrapped up in warm furs and cloths. Her eyes were growing heavy. She closed her eyes for a moment.

"Elfswith," Finan asked, registering that she had fallen asleep curled up tightly in the chair while he had been in the middle of sharing a story from his childhood. He chuckled to himself before standing and making his way over to her.

He wrapped his arms underneath her cautiously and pulled her up into his arms. Slowly, he moved her over to her bed and laid her underneath her furs. He turned to go, but a hand stopped him. Elfswith was sitting up, blinking back the sleep in her eyes.

"I did not mean to fall asleep," she said, her hand still resting in his. "Did you finish your story?"

"No, no, but that's alright. You should rest, and I should return to the inn," Finan replied, squeezing her hand.

Elfswith suddenly had the urge to do something incredibly stupid, and she tugged at his hand, pulling him closer to her. Her other hand went up and pulled his head down towards herself, and she kissed him.

Finan stood there in shock for a moment before deepening the kiss. Her lips were soft against his, and he wanted nothing more than to hold the beautiful creature before him. His hand went to her chin, and he kissed her for a moment more before pulling back.

"That was-" He started to talk.

"Thank you," Elfswith said softly, her hand still wrapped around his neck. She slowly let go, but Finan placed another gentler kiss on her lips before stepping back. "Goodnight, princess," he said quietly before turning and walking to the window.

Elfswith watched as he left, shutting them behind him, and she drifted off into a very pleasant sleep.

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As the weeks went on and then the months, and Elfswith found herself falling in love with the Irishman. He came to her window as much as possible, and she would sneak out to meet him in the orchard or in the market, anywhere where she could be herself, and he was allowed to speak with her.

Finan ignored Sihtric and Osferth's warnings and reminders that she was a princess, and she would soon be married off. Deep in his heart, he knew it to be true, but instead, he allowed himself to begin to fall in love with her.

One night, the two of them admitted how they felt for one another, the first time they said they loved one another. Elfswith was happy, but deep in her heart, her mother's words about her ever-nearing betrothal.

After a year spent together, enjoying each other's company, Elfswith's dreams came crashing down. She was sitting for her lessons when her mother came into the room and dismissed the tutor. Elfswith was concerned, and as she saw her mother's smile, her heart dropped.

"What is it, mother?" She asked.

"Your father has decided on a bride price and on your suitor," she said happily. "You will be married to the Lord Platen."

Elfswith's heart stopped. He was only slightly younger than her father. He was the advisor to the king, and he was a kind man, but he was much older than Elfswith had ever wanted. Her thoughts began to drift to Finan, and she found herself wanting to cry.

"Elfswith, this is good news," her mother said sternly, realizing that Elfswith was on the verge of tears.

"What if I wanted to marry someone I loved?" Elfswith suddenly asked.

"You will marry for the good of your country and for your king. You will be well treated, and you will be happy," Aelswith said, a warning tone to her voice. "Do you understand your duty?"

"Yes mother," Elfswith said quietly, looking down at her feet.

"Your wedding will take place in three months' time," Aelswith said. "Now, I expect to see you at prayers tomorrow morning, and afterward, you will get to spend time with the Lord in the courtyard."

As soon as Aelswith left the room, Elfswith fled the palace. She raced to the stables and got on her horse, evading the guards who chased after her. Her horse was still saddled from her previous ride, and she jumped on, racing out of the gates of Winchester.

She raced away into the nearby woods, seeking out the place where Finan would meet her later to watch the sunset together. When she arrived, she slid off of her horse and fell to the ground, sobbing.

She stayed like that for some time, trying to figure out how to tell Finan. She loved him. Elfswith loved him with her whole heart, and she desired nothing more than to be his forever. She was there long enough to think through every possibility and every option for them, only to realize that their love was utterly futile. She could never be with him, not as his wife, and she mourned her loss.

She had only just finished crying when she heard rustling and she looked up to see Finan making his way into the clearing on his horse. Upon seeing her, he smiled widely and jumped from his horse, tying it beside hers, and making his way over to her.

As he approached, he saw her tear-stained and reddened face, and he frowned, sweeping her up into a hug and placing a kiss on her temple.

"What is it, my love?" He asked gently, looking down at her.

"Oh it is nothing," she said, placing a smile on her face.

"Tell me," Finan said, firmly.

"Please, Finan," Elfswith pleaded. "I do not wish to think of it anymore. Please, can we enjoy this time together?"

Finan hesitated before nodding his head and kissing her gently. She smiled into it, pushing away her thoughts and the news of her betrothal.

That evening, they sat together in the grass, watching the sunset across the treeline, and watched as the moon came up above the trees, rising higher and higher in the sky. Elfswith was truly and blissfully happy, listening to Finan talk and laugh, his sweet accent sending shivers down her spine.

However, all too soon, it was time for them to return to the walls of Winchester. Finan escorted her back, and under the cover of night, they were let in with no questions asked. When they arrived at the stables, they put away their horses, and made their way up to the palace.

Elfswith tried to get into her room by the window, but it had been locked, and she huffed.

"We should go through the palace," Finan said he pulled her away and down the hallway to the courtyard, but Elfswith suddenly froze as she noticed her father walking by with a certain Lord Platen. It was late for them to be speaking, but Elfswith knew exactly what was being discussed, and her blood ran cold.

As soon as they were out of sight, Finan turned to her and chuckled.

"I wonder what war they are discussing," he moved out from the shadows of the column, only to look back and see Elfswith frozen to the spot. "Elfswith?"

"They aren't talking about a war," Elfswith said, barely loud enough for Finan to hear her. She looked down at her hands and took a deep breath. "I know what they're talking about."

"What?" Finan asked, looking at her, a confused expression across his face. "Elfswith, what are you not telling me?"

"My betrothal, Finan," Elfswith said, looking up at him. "They have chosen who I am to marry."

"No, you are not getting married. You can't," Finan said, taking it all in. "Was that why you were crying when I found you?"

"Yes, Finan, it is," Elfswith replied, looking at her feet ashamedly.

"Why didn't you tell me? I had a right to know."

"I- I wanted us to have tonight, Finan," Elfswith said quietly. "I needed to have one last night with you before- before-"

"Before you marry someone else," Finan finished for her.

"It was not my choice, Finan," Elfswith repeated. "I am a woman and a princess. I have no right to choose my suitor. My father has chosen my husband, and I am to marry him in a three months time," she bit her lip, trying to remain calm.

"No," Finan shook his head. "They can't force you to marry someone."

"They can, and they will," Elfswith replied. "No matter how much I would desire to be with someone else, to be with you, it cannot be."

"Who is it?"

"The Lord Platen himself," she said quietly. She looked up to see an angry expression across his face. "My father's advisor."

"He is too old!" Finan exclaimed.

"He is but ten years older than yourself," Elfswith said, trying to make the proposition sound better for the both of them, but at her words, she knew it was not great.

"So he is a man twice your age," Finan replied, frustrated at her words. "That is hardly-"

"Finan, stop, please," Elfswith said, a little more forcefully than she intended. "Every harsh word you say of him will only cause me more pain. The King has made his decision, and I must comply, no matter how I feel about you," she paused, seeing how Finan was angry, unhappy with the decision that had been made.

"But I love you," he said. Elfswith felt tears forming in her eyes now. "I have loved you from the moment I first saw you."

"Finan," Elfswith quickly wiped away her tears. "I have loved you too, but I must go now," she whispered. "And for us both, you should go too," with that she turned away from him, her jaw clenched in determination, not wanting to give in to her tears.

"Stay," Finan said suddenly. 

Elfswith's back was turned from him, her hands clasped together as she fought back tears. She knew that their love had been foolish. To think that the daughter of a king could marry a simple man. She was frozen in the middle of the hallway, the moonlight pouring in from the archway between the hall and the courtyard. The light reflected only half of her face as she tried to pull herself together enough to turn and look at him.

"Stay with me. Be with me," Finan said, taking a step towards her. "Do not marry him. I will take you anywhere, and instead you can be my wife, and I can love you always and I will protect you for as long as I live. I swear."

"Finan," Elfswith's voice cracked as she tried to stop the tears from falling down her face. She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to keep out the cold and to hold herself, trying to find any comfort "I can't-" she broke slightly. She could barely see him through the tears, but she could tell that he was hurting too. "I have- tried."

"Come with me," Finan pleaded, his voice cracking. "We can leave tonight."

"And go where?" Elfswith asked. "We would not make it out of Wessex. My father would kill you."

"I would rather die than let you go," came Finan's reply as he stepped towards her.

Elfswith's hand flew to her mouth in shock and to suppress the loud sob that came pouring out from her. Finan reached out and let his hands run up and down her upper arms, trying to comfort her, but she knew that it would not help.

"I will not be the reason for your death, Finan," Elfswith said, unable to meet his eyes. She stepped back from him before finally looking up to meet his teary and soft brown eyes.

"I want you to go. I want you to move on without me," she said, ignoring the ache in her heart. "I want you to find someone to take care of you. Someone to hold, to laugh with, someone to be with. Someone to love."

"Elfswith-"

"Please, Finan, let me finish," Elfswith said, her breath shaky as her mind flashed through all of the memories of the last year. "I want you to be as happy as you have made me this past year. I want you to make your own memories. To make your own family," she paused for a moment. "It will take time. But if you can once more find happiness, then so can I. Right now, the best way to love me is by loving someone else."

As soon as those words left her mouth, Elfswith could feel a hollow pain in her chest, and she blinked back more tears.

"I can't, Elfswith. I need you," Finan replied, running his hands through his hair and looking away from her

"No, you don't," Elfswith replied, reaching out and taking his bearded face into her hand, bringing it up so that his eyes met hers. "You are strong and brave and the greatest warrior I know. You will get through this, and you will be even stronger than before," Elfswith took a deep breath before stepping towards him. "Promise me you will move on and be happy. Promise me you will do this."

"Elfswith,"

"Promise me."

Finan's eyes searched hers, and he took a deep breath. The moment he agreed, he knew that she would be gone from him forever. Even if they would see each other again, she would no longer be his. He could no longer sing to her, brush his hands through her hair as they laid out of Winchester at sunset. He could no longer hide from the guards with her or sneak into her room late at night to talk. He could no longer hold her close and kiss her. He would no longer be hers, and she would no longer be his.

"Promise me," Elfswith begged him once more.

Finan shut his eyes and took a shaky breath.

"I promise."

Elfswith didn't feel better when she heard him say it. It took everything in her to not break down in front of him. Instead, she placed a brave smile on her face.

"Good," she said. "Then farewell, Finan."

At that, she placed a gentle kiss to his cheek, and her hand dropped from his face. As she stepped back, she could barely breathe. She took one last look at the man she had always loved before turning away, her heart broken into a million pieces.

She could not look back as she walked away from him, for she knew that if she did, she would not be able to move.

Finan watched through teary eyes as she walked away from him, the beautiful woman he had come to love. Soon enough, she disappeared from his sight, and he was left standing alone in the hall, the moonlight shining down on his face to reveal the shining tears that stained his face.

"I will always love you," he whispered, his words touching the cold air, landing into complete emptiness.

And with that, he too turned away, taking the long walk back through the places they had always been, the places they had always loved, together. Only this time, he was alone.

Completely and totally alone.

\---------------------------------------------

As the years went by, Elfswith was married to a nobleman in Winchester, one of her father's closest advisors. He was younger than her father, for which she was grateful, and he treated her very kindly.

She was allowed many freedoms and spent many of her days outside of Winchester at the estate gifted to her by her husband at the birth of their son. She raised her son happily, having fallen absolutely in love with him.

She heard often of the Lord Uhtred from her father and from her husband, but each time they spoke of him, Elfswith could think nothing but of Finan, and she would grow sad, excusing herself from the conversation.

She never got over him. Her heart still longed for him, but she did not even know if he was alive. So she found comfort in her son, caring for him deeply and making sure that he was raised properly.

One day, a messenger arrived at her estate informing her that her husband had been injured in battle and was at Winchester. It was likely that he would not survive. Elfswith left the estate quickly and made the half-day ride to Winchester with her son at her side.

She arrived just in time to speak with her husband before he passed, and she became a widow, and her son became fatherless. She did not cry for herself, but she cried for her son, mourning his loss. He had been a kind and gentle man, but he was not the man she loved. He could never have been the man she loved.

The days after his death turned into weeks, weeks into months. Her father had promised her that she would not have to remarry and that she could either live on in Winchester or at her estate. She often traveled back and forth between the two.

One day, Elfswith was in the nun's orchard in Winchester with her son, picking a few apples from the trees. She stood up on her toes, holding her now 3-year-old up so that he could pick the apple the highest up.

She watched as he raced away to go play with a few of the nuns who doted on him. She stood there by herself for a few moments before a group of people caught her eye.

Standing in the middle of the street, just inside the walls of Winchester, Elfswith saw the Lord Uhtred and a handful of men, talking. She scanned the group, searching for a familiar face, and once she found him, she could not look away. It was Finan. Her breath hitched in her chest as she looked him over.

He was well. A little older and with a few more scratches and scars, but he looked well. She did not even notice as one of the other men, Sihtric, saw her staring and tapped Finan. His eyes met hers, and Elfswith could feel happy tears filling her eyes.

They both stared at each other for a moment before the group of men turned to leave. Finan stood firm, hesitating. Uhtred noticed his hesitation, following his gaze to where Elfswith was standing, and he patted Finan on the shoulder, speaking quietly to him before leaving him be.

Soon, Finan began to make his way up over the hill and to where she stood in the orchard. She could feel her heart pounding faster and faster with each step that he took, and she waited anxiously for him to reach her.

He paused as he neared, keeping a few feet between them. Elfswith didn't know what to say as she took him in. He hesitated before running his hands through his hair, which made Elfswith smile.

"You always used to do that," she said shyly.

"You look beautiful," Finan replied. "You always looked beautiful."

Elfswith smiled, blushing at his compliment. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?" Her hands nervously played with the edge of her dress.

"It has. Too long," he said.

They stood there for a few moments, unsure of what to say until finally, Finan spoke.

"There's something I have to tell you," he said.

At his words, Elfswith's face fell. She knew what was coming. He would tell her of his wife, his family. The people that he now loved. The people that now had become his world.

"Yes?" She asked, putting on a brave smile.

"I broke my promise," he said.

Elfswith's face contorted to confusion.

"You made me promise to move on. To love someone else. All these years, you wanted me to find someone else to replace you, but I couldn't do it," Finan said. "I have never felt for someone else in the way I felt for you."

Elfswith could feel her eyes burning with unshed tears of happiness.

"If you weren't married, I would take you into my arms and carry you out of this field and take you home right now," Finan admitted.

"I am a widow," Elfswith said, causing Finan's eyes to widen as he registered her words. "He passed away four months ago, and my father promised to never have me remarry unless I desired it," Elfswith heart was pounding in her chest. "My husband was good and kind to me, but he was never you, Finan. He could never have been you. I have loved you every moment of these passing years. Every waking moment I have thought of you. Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured you there, beside me. That is all I have ever wanted. I was not sure if you had kept your promise, and now that I know that you did not-" she trailed off, looking up at him.

"It's the only promise I've ever broken," Finan said, approaching her and reaching out, taking her hands in his. "Because I gave you another promise. I promised that I would always love you, and that is a promise I will never break."

Elfswith smiled as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close, pressing his lips gently against hers. Elfswith melted into his embrace. She had longed for that moment for years. Years, she had waited for him to hold her, to tell her how much he loved her.

As they broke apart, he pressed his forehead against hers and smiled.

"I will always love you," he said gently.

Elfswith smiled and was about to respond when she heard a childish giggle coming towards her. She stepped back from Finan and watched as her son raced towards her, and she bent down and pulled him up into her arms, placing a kiss to his forehead.

As she stood up, he peeked up at Finan before turning and burying his head shyly into her neck, making her laugh quietly. She looked over at Finan, trying to read the expression on his face, but she could not make it out.

"Is this-" he started.

"He is my son," Elfswith said kindly. "You should say hello," she whispered in her son's ear.

He peeked out from her shoulder and eyed Finan with big blue eyes that matched his mother's almost exactly. He gave a soft hello and wave before laying his head down on her shoulder.

"He looks just like you," Finan said quietly, studying the little boy.

"He does," Elfswith replied. "Would you like to know his name?"

Finan nodded and Elfswith looked down at her son and whispered in his ear. He looked up at his mother solemnly and then looked at Finan.

"My name is Elfinan," he said with his babyish voice.

Finan raised an eyebrow.

"I wanted him to grow up to be like you, and I thought that by putting our names together, he would be like the child I could never have had with you," Elfswith said quietly. "He may not be yours, but I would like him to be."

Finan's eyes were glassy now, looking at the little boy and the woman he loved.

"Just as you are mine, so now is he," Finan replied, pulling them both into his arms, kissing Elfswith on the cheek, and ruffling Aelfin's hair. 

"And I will always love you," he whispered.


	6. (Request) Ragnar- I Will Always Find You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Sexual assault, emotional and physical trauma/abuse, and kidnapping. Please be careful reading this!!
> 
> Scene: I do a pretty good job of setting this up. Aliyah is the wife of Young Ragnar. This is a request for LilouLox32
> 
> Word Count: 4,991

Aliyah had never been so happy in her life. She hummed about the great hall built for her and her husband, anxiously awaiting the moment he would return from his ride. She paced slightly, having finished all of her work for the day and gone ahead and sent her servants and the workers home.

Suddenly, she heard a horse outside, and the sound of a familiar voice outside the door. As it opened, Aliyah smiled at the sight before her. Her handsome husband, Ragnar, stood in the doorway, a smile spread across his face as he took in his young wife.

"There she is," Ragnar spoke, beginning to approach her.

As was normal, Aliyah smirked at him and turned to run away, teasing him and urging him to chase her. She was not fast enough, as he snatched her up into his arms, causing her to squeal as he picked her up from behind.

"You could never escape me," he said, stepping her back down and spinning her so that she faced him. His arms still held onto her waist, happy to see his wife. As he leaned down and placed a warm kiss to her lips, he spoke, "And if you did, I would always come and find you. Always."

"Of course, my love," Aliyah said, putting her hand up to stroke his cheek. She stood there for a second before remembering her news. "I have something important to tell you."

"Yes?" Ragnar asked, urging her on.

"Well, give me a moment," she said, wiggling out of his grasp and racing to the corner of the hall while Ragnar waited patiently for her to return.

She picked up the little project that she had worked on that afternoon before bringing it over to Ragnar.

"We are going to need more cloth," she said, putting on an air of seriousness. "I have a few more projects to work on."

"What have you made now?" Ragnar asked. She never asked for anything, and he would be more than happy to get her more cloth.

Aliyah handed him the tiny green tunic she had made and watched his expression change. He was confused at first, and he eyed it suspiciously.

"What is this for?"

Aliyah rolled her eyes and giggled, "It's for your son or your daughter."

"But I don't-" realization dawned on Ragnar's face as he registered what the tunic was for. "You're with child?" He asked

"Yes, Ragnar," Aliyah laughed. "I am with child, and soon you will be a father."

Ragnar immediately swept her up into her arms, kissing her deeply. He was beyond excited.

"We must tell my family," he said. "Tonight."

"Tonight?" Aliyah asked, her eyes widening. "I did not think we would feast in their hall until tomorrow!"

"They do not live so far from here," Ragnar replied. "Besides, when we tell them, they will welcome us with open arms."

He finally let go of her and knelt before her, placing his hand on her stomach. He could feel a very slight bump, but he had thought nothing of it when he had seen her naked beside him under the furs. He had only admired her, and kissed her, and held her tightly.

"Ragnar," Aliyah's voice brought him back to the present. He realized that his mind had wandered, and he chuckled, standing.

"Let me wash, then we will ride to their hall," he said.

Aliyah nodded and watched her husband walk away from her, and she danced excitedly around, humming to herself. She was dancing and singing quietly to herself as she waited for him to return, having already washed. She decided to grab her broom and sweep a part of the floor despite having swept it over a hundred times before.

She did not notice Ragnar coming for her, and she yelped as he grabbed her from behind.

"You sound beautiful," he said, kissing her neck as shivers went up and down her spine.

"And you terrified me," she replied, smacking him playfully. "Are we leaving?"

"Of course, my love," Ragnar replied, taking her hand and pulling her out of their home and to the stables. They made their way out of where they lived, waving to a handful of Ragnar's men who kept watch over the place, before turning towards the Older Ragnar's home.

When they arrived, Aliyah was greeted by the sight of three young teenagers running around in front of the hall, and she smiled as she recognized them. The young Thyra, who was Ragnar's blood sister, and then his adopted brother, young Uhtred, and then Brida, a servant girl.

They were all in their teenage years, with Thyra and Brida a few years younger than Uhtred, who was only 5 years younger than Aliyah. As soon as Ragnar had helped her down from her horse, Aliyah was pulled into a large hug by Thyra.

"What are you doing here?" Thrya exclaimed, pulling back and looking over to Ragnar.

"We will explain in a moment, but first, I would like to know where my father is," Ragnar said, giving Thyra a quick hug. 

"They're in the hall," Brida spoke up.

"Thank you, Brida," Ragnar said, moving towards the hall. He looked back to where Aliyah stood, but she shook her head.

"I will join you in a moment, my love," she said. "First I should like to speak with them," she motioned to the three teenagers in front of her.

Once Ragnar entered the hall, Aliyah was pulled into a hug by Brida and then Uhtred. She adored all three of them, and was glad for some company.

"Are you well?" Uhtred asked her.

"I am very well. I am very happy," she replied. "Young Ragnar treats me well, and I am very content. What of you? Earl Ragnar treats you well?"

"He is good to us all," Brida said. "The gods bless us each day."

"They do, Brida, they do," Aliyah replied, a smile on her face.

"What are you here for?" Thrya finally asked again, believing that with Ragnar gone, Aliyah would let it slip. But she was mistaken, as Aliyah pursed her lips and shook her head.

"I will not say without Ragnar here," she said. "Come, let us go to the hall so I may greet your parents," and with that, arm in arm with Thyra, the group made their way into the hall.

Aliyah was greeted by Young Ragnar's family, with Earl Ragnar practically smothering her in a hug. As soon as she escaped his grasp, she laughed, shaking her head.

"We weren't expecting you this evening," Earl Ragnar spoke. "What brings you both here?"

Young Ragnar and Aliyah exchanged glances.

"Tell them," Aliyah said, reaching her hand out and squeezing Young Ragnar's hand with hers.

Young Ragnar proudly turned to his family, a smile spread widely across his face.

"I am going to be a father," he said. "Aliyah is with child."

The family all froze for a moment before suddenly everyone was clamoring with their congratulations. They swarmed around the happy couple, exchanging hugs and shaking hands. Aliyah smiled as Brida and Thyra came up to her and began to ask thousands of questions. Noticing this, Young Ragnar broke free of his father's handshake and wrapped his arms around Aliyah.

"Try not to overwhelm her too much," he said, looking to where Thyra and Brida stood sheepishly.

"Oh, I'm alright, Ragnar," Aliyah said, tapping him lighting on the arm. "They're just curious."

"Let us feast!" Earl Ragnar suddenly spoke up. "To celebrate the new couple."

The group soon turned to eat, settling down and talking amongst each other. Aliyah's face was warm from the warmth of the hall and from the happiness filling her heart. She was excited to be amongst her closest friends and her family.

Once the feast was over, and they said their goodbyes, Young Ragnar helped her up onto her horse and the two of them raced each other back to their home. Aliyah found herself laughing with him as they raced through the night, desperately trying to beat him home.

When they finally arrived, it was not long before they found themselves lying beside each other under the furs. Aliyah was curled up in her husband's arms, and she was tracing her finger in circles on his chest. Ragnar's hands were in her hair, gently combing it, holding her close to him.

"I love you," Ragnar suddenly spoke. "I will always love you."

Aliyah turned her head up from where it lay on his shoulder, looking up and meeting his eyes.

"Even if I were to be taken from you? If I were to be lost?"

"I would always find you, Aliyah. You will always be mine. I swear."

Aliyah smiled up at him before leaning up and kissing him on the lips.

"I love you," she whispered before laying back down and closing her eyes.

Her world was beautiful and perfect, if just for that moment, and she smiled to herself as she drifted off into sleep.

The next few weeks went by very quickly, with Aliyah waiting impatiently for her baby bump to begin to show. Ragnar would leave in the mornings and return in the evenings to her, and she would be even happier around him.

One evening, Ragnar came back with a somber look on his face. As soon as he stepped into the hall, Aliyah could tell that something was wrong. She turned to the last remaining servants and shooed them away before making her way over to her husband.

"What is it, Ragnar?"

"There's a new Dane who has arrived on our shores. His name is Ulf, and he has been taking my father's lands to the east. We leave tomorrow to take care of him."

"How long will you be gone for?" Aliyah asked.

"A week at the most," Ragnar said.

"Be careful, my love."

Aliyah could feel her heart pounding hard as she watched him leave the next morning, worried for his safety and for the safety of the rest of the family. She sent home her servants, choosing to be alone that day.

As night fell, Aliyah had just sat down to a quiet dinner by herself when she heard a noise outside. She looked up from her bowl of stew and frowned. It was normally very quiet in the hall when she was alone.

She stood from her chair and made her way to the door, opening it slightly and peering out to the yard. She saw a dog racing across the yard and sighed to herself.

"There's nothing out there," she whispered before beginning to shut the door.

Right before she could shut the door, it was suddenly ripped from her hands. Aliyah stood there, stunned, when she suddenly noticed four giant Dane men in front of her, and her eyes widened. She turned away, racing towards where she knew her knife was beside her food, but she didn't make it very far before she was tackled to the ground, pinned underneath one of the men.

Aliyah thrashed and cried out underneath him as he laughed, watching her try, in vain, to break free. 

"Guards!" She screamed.

"Oh no, my pretty, they're dead," the man said as he pinned her arms down with his own, using his hips to straddle her waist, pinning down her legs.

Aliyah could feel the terror race through her. There was no one there to help her. Ragnar was gone, her family was back at their home, far from danger. Her servants had been sent home, and the guards were all dead. She was alone. She froze, beginning to realize her situation as more and more men gathered in the hall. In her husband's hall.

The man sighed and stood, pulling her to her feet and placing his knife against her neck.

"So who are you?" He asked. "A pretty woman like you, living alone in a big hall."

"I am not alone," Aliyah spat, beginning her struggle again.

"Then where is your husband, little girl?" The man said. "I would like him to be here to watch what we do to you."

"You will not touch me!" Aliyah finally ripped free from his grasp and stepped back. A circle was forming around her and the man, who had an amused look on his face as he watched her. It was like a predator eyeing his prey. "Who are you?" Aliyah demanded, crossing her arms across her chest, panic beginning to set in.

"I am Ulf," the man said. "Have you not heard of me?"

Aliyah's eyes widened. This was the man who had been taking Earl Ragnar's lands. The one who Ragnar had left to fight.

"I've heard of you," she replied, her eyes glancing around the group of men. There were a dozen of them.

"Good, good," Ulf replied, taking a step towards her. "Now, tell me who you belong to."

"I belong to no one," Aliyah said.

Suddenly, Ulf reached out and smacked her across the face, sending her down to the ground on her knees. Aliyah cried out in pain.

"You will tell me now, or I will slice your throat," Ulf said, picking her up and pressing his knife to her throat again, this time drawing blood. "Tell me!"

Aliyah hesitated, weighing the decision. She did not want to die, but she knew that she would not go to Valhalla if she died a coward. She looked the Dane right in the eye before speaking.

"My husband will destroy you," Aliyah hissed. "The Young Ragnar is my husband, and he will cut your throat when he finds my body."

Ulf's eyes narrowed as he realized exactly who Aliyah was. Then he burst out laughing.

"Oh no, no, he will not find your body here," Ulf said. "He will find you warming my bed at my hall," he laughed, seeing the blood drain from Aliyah's face. He turned to his men and nodded back. "Take her. We're leaving."

Aliyah scrambled to stand, trying to escape before two men grabbed her and tied her up. They dragged her to their horses, and she fought them the whole way, trying to break free. She did not want to become someone's whore.

But she did not have a choice. After two miserable days of riding, Aliyah was starved and thirsty and tired, her body aching, and her mind dreading what would happen to her once they arrived back at Ulf's hall.

She was not treated kindly when they arrived. Ulf sent everyone except two of his closest advisors from the hall. Aliyah was kept tied up, her once-clean dress now filthy and stinking. But Ulf didn't care.

Within moments of arriving at the hall, he had looked her over ravenously, his advisors doing the same thing, and Aliyah knew what would happen. She desperately tried to escape again, but Ulf grabbed her.

"Where do you think you're going? I plan to hump you, and then let my friends here hump you too," he whispered in her ear, sending unpleasant shudders down her spine. Aliyah could feel tears forming in her eyes as she shook her head.

"No, no! You will not!" She said, her mind trying to think of Ragnar and only of Ragnar.

But soon enough, the deed was done. She was tied to a bed in the cellar and left alone, trying to cover herself with the remnants of her torn dress, her body aching and trembling at the pain. The men had not been gentle, they had used her as they wished and then laughed as they left her there.

Aliyah sobbed, her heart aching for herself, for Ragnar, and she pleaded with the gods to save her. She wanted to be put out of her misery.

"I can't do this," she said, her arms wrapped around her body as she shook. "Don't let Ragnar ever see me like this," she whispered.

The night grew cold, and she found herself shivering from the cold. She could hear the men outside the hall, roaring with laughter, celebrating their great capture, and she closed her eyes, her hand going down to touch her stomach, thinking of the baby.

Suddenly, she felt something warm on her, and she opened her eyes to see blood covering her dress. She felt a little contraction in her stomach, and she gasped.

"No, no, no," she begged. "No, no. Do not make me lose everything. No!" She shouted.

She was losing her child. Ragnar's child. All Aliyah could feel was shame and pain. She was ashamed of what was happening. She was ashamed of what she was. The pain of losing her child was horrible, and the pain inflicted on her by the wild Danes was terrible.

"Please," she whispered. "Just let me die."

But Aliyah did not get her wish. The hours turned into days and the days turned into weeks, and Aliyah lost hope. Ragnar was no longer coming for her. She could barely fight off the men when they came to her. She prayed to the gods to end her suffering.

She lost count of the days in her suffering. She never saw the outdoors, being locked up in the cellar beneath the hall, and she wondered what season it was. The nights were no longer very cold, so she knew it had been at months since her capture, but she was not sure. Her spirit was broken. Ragnar faded from her mind and from her memory. He was replaced with the cruel hands of the men who abused her, and she lost all thoughts of happiness. She remembered nothing from before she was captured. She could not afford to be happy.

One day, Aliyah was curled up on her bed, trying to sleep, as she did most days to keep her mind off of how hungry she was when she heard clamoring and shouts. She barely even lifted her head. They faded for a few moments, before she suddenly heard shouts.

"Warriors have breached the gate!"

And the stomping of men racing out of the hall. Aliyah sat up, trying to find a place to hide. She did not want to become another puppet for any other man. She slid to the corner of the cellar and closed her eyes, praying that the men would have mercy and cut her head from her shoulders.

In the middle of her prayers, she suddenly heard clashes coming from above her, and then she heard it. She heard a loud and angry roar. 

"Where is she?" It shouted. "Where is my wife?" The voice was so full of anger and hatred that Aliyah felt herself shaking, trembling in fear. She did not know who it was, but she knew that he would likely find her and kill her.

She hid in the corner of the cell, covering herself with the only fur that she had been given, using it to hide her starved frame. She closed her eyes, listening as footsteps came down the stairs, and she heard a shout.

"Lord! We've found her!"

Aliyah froze, her eyes just barely looking out of the cell, and she watched as a great big man descended the stairs and made his way to the cell. His eyes softened immediately when he saw her, and he yanked the door open, stepping inside, making a beeline over to where Aliyah was hiding in the corner.

"Aliyah," he said quietly, taking her in. As he approached, she began to tremble. She was confused as to how he knew her name.

"No," she said, feeling tears streaming down her eyes, seeing him get closer and closer. "Don't hurt me, please. Leave me alone, I don't-"

He froze, realizing how his actions might appear to her, and his eyes began to well up as he looked at his once-proud and beautiful wife. She had been diminished down to a level far worse than a common slave. Her hair was matted, she had lost an incredible amount of weight. There were bruises and scrapes and scars that littered her body, and the man almost choked on his tears.

"Aliyah, it is Ragnar. I am here for you."

"Ragnar?" Aliyah whispered, the name sounding familiar as she spoke, but she could not place a finger on it. She narrowed her eyes, staring at him as he looked back at her. "I do not know you."

At her words, Ragnar's eyes widened, and he shook his head.

"No, Aliyah, please. It is me, your husband," he said, trying desperately to get her to look at him.

"Please leave me," Aliyah replied, hanging her head down. She was confused and terrified, not understanding how she could not remember her own husband. She refused to meet his eye. "I do not have a husband."

Ragnar was shaken by her request, and he froze, looking her over, wanting nothing more than to hold her. That's when he noticed. She was not pregnant. She had not grown at all, and it was too early for the child to have been born.

"Aliyah," he said softly, his eyes beginning to water. "What happened to our child?"

Aliyah froze, her hand going instinctively to her stomach. She did remember being pregnant. She remembered the loss of her child.

"I never gave birth," she whispered, unable to look at the man before her. "Please, go."

Ragnar was shocked. He felt himself becoming numb with rage, and he was angry. He needed to kill someone. He wanted to knock Ulf's head off of his shoulders.

He stood, roaring with anger and becoming blind with rage.

"I will kill him. I will have his head. NOW!" He took off, stomping viciously back up to the hall, leaving Aliyah all by herself once more.

Aliyah did not know what to do, as her mind churned on what the man had said. Her husband. She closed her eyes and shook her head, desperate to remember if what he had said was true.

"My lady?" A soft voice drew Aliyah out of her thoughts.

She looked up, startled, to see a young woman in front of her, and she took a deep breath, hoping she would not harm her.

"I came down to take you outside and make sure you are washed and cared for," she said. She noted her distressed look and stepped back. "I can get someone else if you would like."

"No, no," Aliyah said. "I just, haven't been outside."

She stood cautiously, still covering herself in her furs, and she followed the woman up the stairs. Aliyah was weak, and she used the woman for support as she walked. They slipped out the back of the hall, away from the men and the chaos behind them.

As soon as Aliyah stepped outside, she froze.

Her eyes adjusted to the sunlight, and she took in a deep breath. She looked around her. Behind the hall was a large field of beautiful flowers, and she sighed. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she took in the sights and smells.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

"It is," the woman replied. They stood there in silence for a few moments before Aliyah wiped away her tears.

"It's summer now," she said quietly. "I never realized."

"Yes, my lady," the woman replied again. "Come, Lady, we should get you washed. I'm sure it will help you feel better."

The two women turned away from the field and went to a nearby pond, with Aliyah pulling off her clothes and getting into the water. She was covered in bruises and cuts, and she could feel them up and down her body as she scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed away the months of abuse that she had suffered. The woman watched out for people and helped Aliyah whenever she could.

As soon as Aliyah was changed and in a new dress, she thanked the woman. It was the first real kindness that she had experienced in months. Instead of returning to the hall, Aliyah sent the woman away, choosing instead to sit by the pond and take in the fresh air.

She wanted to be alone.

She sat there for some time, thinking about the man who had spoken to her. He had been kind to her, and he had not laid a hand on her. He had seemed familiar, but it was like she had forced herself to forget.

"I've found you again," a voice startled Aliyah out of her thoughts.

She turned to see the man standing behind her. He was far enough that she knew that she was safe, but he was still a man who could easily overpower her, and she froze, waiting to see what he would do.

"I will not touch you," he said. "May I sit?" He motioned to a patch of ground closer to her. "Please?"

Aliyah hesitated. She wrapped her arms around herself before nodding. He slowly moved towards her and took his spot on the ground, sitting cross-legged beside her. They sat in silence for a while, with Aliyah's eyes on him the whole time, making sure that he did not move.

She studied his face. He was blonde, tall, and strong, he had a tattoo on his forehead, which Aliyah studied intently. She noticed the red stains along his face and his clothes, clearly from the fight that had happened. Her mind went to Ulf, and she shuddered.

"Is he dead?" She asked quietly.

As if realizing who she meant, Ragnar nodded.

"He is dead. No one will ever hurt you again. I am sure of it."

The two of them sat in silence for a while longer before Ragnar spoke again.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked, turning his gaze from the pond to her.

"You are Ragnar," she said, repeating what he had told her.

"No, no," he shook his head. "Do you know who I am?"

"I have forgotten anything about before," Aliyah shook her head. "I don't know why. All I remember is when Ulf came in the night and took me from my home and brought me here. All I remember is him."

"But you remember your child?" Ragnar asked.

Aliyah stopped and looked down to her stomach.

"I do," she said quietly. "I remember wanting the child, and I remember losing the child."

"I wanted the child too," Ragnar whispered. He suddenly shifted, causing Aliyah to jump slightly. Ragnar realized that he had scared her. "I am just getting something to give to you. It may help you remember."

Aliyah watched as he continued and reached in, pulling out something and holding it in his fist. Ragnar reached out towards her, and Aliyah hesitated before reaching her hand out. He gently set it into her hand before she pulled back.

She looked down to see a tiny little green tunic in her hands.

"You made that the day you told me you were pregnant," Ragnar said.

Aliyah's mind suddenly flashed back to a moment from long ago.

_"We are going to need more cloth," she said, putting on an air of seriousness. "I have a few more projects to work on."_

_"What have you made now?" Ragnar asked. She never asked for anything, and he would be more than happy to get her more cloth._

_Aliyah handed him the tiny green tunic she had made and watched his expression change. He was confused at first, and he eyed it suspiciously._

__

_"What is this for?"_

__

_Aliyah rolled her eyes and giggled, "It's for your son or your daughter."_

__

"It was for the child," Aliyah suddenly said softly, tears forming in her eyes as she touched the soft cloth. "I worked all day on it. I've never been any good with sewing, but I was very proud of it," she paused before finally looking up at Ragnar, her eyes scanning his. "You were so happy. We went right to your father's house." 

__

_____The memories started to come back, slowly but surely, and she began to feel overwhelmed. She began to cry, clutching tightly to the tiny green tunic._ _ _ _ _

__

_____"I didn't think you were coming for me," she said softly. She wrapped her arms around herself, sitting with her knees pressed against her chest. Suddenly, Ragnar reached out his hand, wanting her to take it, wanting her to take it._ _ _ _ _

__

_____"You should not care for me, Ragnar," Aliyah shook her head, noting that he wanted her to take his hand. "Look what I have become. I am ashamed."_ _ _ _ _

__

_____"No, Aliyah, you are strong. You are brave, and I know that you need time to heal, but I want to help you. Please let me help you," Ragnar said. "Let me make up for leaving you to yourself. I swear I will never leave you again."_ _ _ _ _

__

_____Aliyah looked between his face and his hand, noting the tears that stained Ragnar's face. She began to reach her hand out, stretching to take his. She paused right when her fingertips touched his. It was terrifying. But at the same time, she was comforted. He would never hurt her. He could never hurt her._ _ _ _ _

__

_____"Why do you care so much?" She whispered._ _ _ _ _

__

_____"Because I love you, Aliyah," Ragnar said, his fingers intertwining with hers. "I will never stop trying to protect you. I will always find you. I will always love you. Because you are my wife, and you deserve the sun and the moon and the stars."_ _ _ _ _

__

_____At his words, Aliyah relaxed, letting her hand slip into his. For the first time in what had felt like an eternity, she was comforted. She was safe, she was loved, and she was wholly and completely his._ _ _ _ _

__

_____As she turned her face to the pond, the gentle breeze kissing her face, she knew that she would be alright, comforted by the one person who loved her above all._ _ _ _ _

__


	7. Osferth (Request)- Finan's Daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None
> 
> Scene: Oh my god, we get the baby monk and the Irishman. I'm so excited. Aoife (pronounced ee-fa) is Finan's only daughter, who he adores, and Osferth finds himself falling for her. So much fluff. Protective Finan. For Theexistentialella on Wattpad.
> 
> Word Count: 3,110

It all started one innocent day when Osferth caught the young Aoife staring at him from across the hall after a feast. He had never thought anything of her, being almost 10 years older than her and very much a celibate monk, or so Finan was convinced he was. And that was the problem, Finan had married, and Aoife, his daughter, was very much so his only child and the apple of his eye. Osferth had watched her grow up, having met her when she was only 6 and he 16, but he had never thought anything of her besides being a little child.

But now she was no longer a child, and she sat across the hall from him, a beautiful young woman of now 19 years, and Osferth noticed her for the first time. Truly noticed her. Perhaps it was the ale coursing through his veins, or the dark lighting, or the fact that she was wearing a light blue dress that brought out her dark brown eyes. Perhaps it was the fact that she had bit her lip subconsciously, unaware of his gaze as her eyes raked up and down his body. His eyes widened as finally their eyes met, and she immediately flushed a deep red, and she looked away. But Osferth did not. He continued to look at her for a moment before he finally coughed and looked away, drawn back into the conversation with Sihtric.

As the night died down and people began to leave Uhtred's hall, before Sihtric could leave with his wife and child, Osferth grabbed him and pulled him in close, whispering in his ear.

"When did Aoifegrow up?"

"By the gods, Osferth, how much have you drank?" Sihtric chuckled before noting Osferth's face and shaking his head. "That's a bad idea. That's possibly worse than any other idea you've ever had. Go to sleep."

And with that, Sihtric left, and Osferth found himself agreeing with him. He waited until the hall cleared before leaving the hall himself. The air was nice and cool, but not enough to make him cold. He took a walk towards the stable, wanting to check on his horse before going to bed, as the mare had gotten ill and was only just beginning to recover.

When he stepped inside, he heard a soft voice speaking quietly into one of the stalls, and he froze when he saw that it was none other than Aoife herself. She looked up at the figure who had entered the stables and immediately froze, seeing the man who she had secretly adored for years.

"Osferth!" She exclaimed. "Sorry, I was uh-" she trailed off, looking at her own horse, a tiny foal that her father had given her for her birthday only a few days earlier.

"It's alright, I just came to see my mare," he said, hesitating. He should not continue further into the stables, but despite his better judgment, he entered anyways. He quickly made his way over to his mare and stepped into the stall, checking her over quickly before exiting. As he exited, he noticed Aoife leaning over the stall door, trying to reach something, but she could not. She huffed in annoyance, pushing her long brown hair back from her face before trying to reach again.

"Do you need help with something?" Osferth asked, causing her to step back and blush a rather deep red as he approached her. He peered inside the stall, eyes following hers to see that beside the new foal was the key to the stall itself.

"I didn't realize that I had dropped it," Aoife said sheepishly, although they both seemed to know that she had dropped it and left it completely on purpose. "And by the time I had realized it, I was outside with no key."

"Let me," Osferth said, moving back before jumping and pulling himself over the stall door, startling the foal. He dropped to the ground and grabbed the key before turning back to where Aoife stood, watching him and trying not to look so pleased with his attention. She had adored him for years, and to finally have his attention was very nice. She had felt his gaze on her throughout the feast, and she had almost cheered herself.

Osferth seemed to be thinking a similar line of thought. There was something about the way she looked at him that made him want to take her right then and there. She was young and beautiful, her blue dress wrapped around her perfectly and her soft lips so kissable. But as those thoughts crept into the depths of his mind, Osferth shook his head slightly and pushed them back before reaching over and handing her the key.

"Thank you," she said before unlocking the door and letting him out. "I am in your debt, Osferth."

"Oh, no," Osferth shook his head, almost violently at her words. "It was no problem."

"I will find a way to repay you," she said. "If only for the fact that you saved me a roar of laughter from my father."

"Ah, yes, Finan," Osferth replied, picturing exactly what Finan would do to him if he had heard the thoughts that rang through his head only moments before. "I should return to the hall," he suddenly said, not wanting to go any further than he had already let himself go in his mind, but before he turned to go, Aoife hand shot out and stopped him.

She stood up on the tips of her toes and leaned up, kissing him gently on the cheek before stepping back, a small smile on her face.

"Goodnight, Osferth," she said, her voice barely a whisper before she turned and left the stables, leaving a shocked Osferth behind.

"She is going to be the death of me," Osferth hummed quietly. "I need to pray. I need to take a cold shower and pray."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From then on, Osferth seemed to notice her everywhere he went. When he was passing through town, when he was working in the hall, or when he was training. Even his occasional prayers were consumed by images of her.

And it was not just her beauty that drew his attention, now he also noticed how she was always helping those around her. She allowed some of the village children to braid her hair, laughing easily with them. He had seen her taking a basket from an elderly woman and helping her across a muddy path. He was currently watching her come up from the main part of the small village, carrying a pail of water for the men where they were training.

"Osferth-" Sihtric's voice and the hard tap of a wooden sword drew him back to present. He was in the middle of the training yard, sparring with Sihtric, and his momentary distraction at Aoife's appearance had cost him the fight.

Sihtric's gaze followed his and his sword dropped from his neck and he pulled him in tightly, his voice a low, gravelly hiss. "It has been weeks since the feast, Osferth, I had thought you dropped that."

Before Osferth could respond, Finan's loud voice called out. He was standing just outside the training fence and was looking over at his daughter as she approached.

"There she is!" He said. "My favorite girl!" As soon as she set down the pail, he pulled her into a hug despite her protests.

"Father! You smell like a pig's arse," she said, pushing him away, much to Finan's delight. Her tongue was just like his, and he roared with laughter before taking a drink from the pail.

Sihtric gave Osferth a warning glance before the two of them made their way over to the gathering men.

As the two men approached, Aoife seemed to flush a little bit red, and she smiled widely.

"Hello, Sihtric, how are you?" She asked, her eyes darting to look at Osferth even though the question was directed at Sihtric.

"I'm healthy, thank you, Aoife," Sihtric said, nodding to her politely.

"And your wife? Your son?"

"Healthy, yes!" Sihtric said, perking up at the mention of his wife before turning away and drinking some of the water.

That gave Aoife a few moments to turn to Osferth. She looked as though she were going to say something, but he spoke first.

"How are you, then Aoife?"

"I am also healthy. My mother sent me out on this errand," she smiled, motioning to where the men were all drinking. "Are you thirsty? I can get you a cup!"

Without even waiting for a response, she walked over, grabbed a cup and filled it from the pail before bringing it over to Osferth. As she handed it to him, his hands brushed against hers, and she suddenly ripped her hand back, completely embarrassed.

In doing so, she tripped and fell back, landing on her hand and crying out in pain. Osferth nearly dropped the water as he knelt down beside her. She cradled the hand that she had landed on, wincing.

"Are you alright?"

Before Aoife could respond, Finan was at her side.

"What is it, Aoife? What happened?"

"I tripped and fell on my hand," Aoife replied as Finan helped her back up. "I think I may have landed wrong because-" she was cut off by Finan taking her hand. "Father!" She yelped.

"You should be more careful with that," Osferth said. "Let me take a look."

"I can take care of my own daughter, baby monk," Finan replied, elbowing his friend lightly out of the way.

"Father, no offense, but I've seen Osferth dress your wounds and injuries in battle, and he has a much gentler touch than-" she paused before finished her words. "Well, gentler than you."

"The baby monk has the touch of a devil!" Finan protested.

"I love you, Father, and I meant no offense," Aoife replied, "but please?"

Finan looked over at Osferth and pursed his lips.

"You hurt her at all, and I will personally send you straight to heaven," Finan said.

He watched on as Aoife held her hand out and Osferth took it gently, pressing around the wrist and asking her exactly where it hurt. After a few seconds, he had found the injury. It was already bruising, and he could see a little swelling.

"It's not broken, but you have bruised it," Osferth said. "I'll need to wrap it up."

"There are bandages in the hall," Aoife said. "I just cut them and laid them myself."

Osferth looked to where Finan was standing, watching them intently, and spoke.

"I'll take her to the hall and wrap it," Osferth said. "If that's alright."

Finan narrowed his eyes, and Osferth could see Sihtric's wide-eyed expression from just behind Finan. Just as Finan nodded, Sihtric gave a warning glare, but Osferth brushed it off, and the two of them made their way down towards the hall from the training area.

"I saw you training," Aoife said. "You look good. Strong, I mean."

"Thank you," Osferth said sheepishly. "I was distracted, I will admit."

"I could tell," Aoife replied, before clamming up. She had said too much, and now she was a bright red color, flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, that was-"

"It's alright," Osferth replied, taking in the way she was flushed red. "That's why beautiful young women aren't usually on the battlefield."

"Oh really?" Aoife asked. "I didn't think monks were on the battlefield either."

"Yes, well, that's a little different for me," Osferth said. "I am sworn to Uhtred, and I must follow him everywhere."

"And what of your oath to God?" Aoife asked.

"I did not know you to be a concerned Christian," Osferth said, raising an eyebrow to her.

"Do you know my father? I may be Christian, but I am far from pious, Osferth."

At that, they finally reached the hall, and Osferth pulled open the door. It was surprisingly empty.

Aoife waved with her good hand to one of the long tables, where bandages were laying. The two of them moved so that Aoife sat on a bench, with Osferth standing beside her, and he grabbed one of the bandages.

As he began to set her hand, Aoife quieted, remaining silent throughout the process, putting on a brave face as her hand was wrapped tightly. As soon as he was done, Osferth noticed that Aoife was unusually silent.

"What is the matter?" He asked gently, sitting beside her.

"I feel guilty," she sighed. "I should have been more careful. These supplies aren't supposed to be for me, they're for when you go to battle-"

She trailed off and hung her head, cradling her hand against her chest slightly. Osferth reached over and touched her chin with his hand, pulling it up so that her eyes met his.

"It's not a waste. They are meant for all of us, you included," he said, a smile on his face. "Do not say you are unworthy," he added. "Of anything."

"I'm just a girl," Aoife said softly, placing her good hand on top of where Osferth's hand now rested on her cheek.

"You are more than that," Osferth said. "So much more," he found himself wanting to hold her, to kiss her. He wanted to tell her how she was kind and gentle and beautiful. Just as he was beginning to lean in to press his lips to hers, they were interrupted.

"Aoife? How are you?" It was Finan.

Aoife stood quickly and turned towards the door just as Finan stepped inside.

"How are you?" He called, approaching the two of them.

"I'm much better, now that this is wrapped," Aoife replied, turning and nodding her thanks to Osferth.

"Good, now, why don't you run along to your mother, we've got more training to do before supper," Finan said.

Just as Aoife turned to go, she paused and looked back at Osferth, a knowing smile on her face.

"Thank you, Osferth," she said. "Really."

And with that, she was gone.

Osferth spent the next few weeks trying desperately to run into her again, but she was kept busy, and he rarely got to see her. He would see her racing by without a moment to talk, or he would see her walking by the training area before getting knocked onto his arse by Sihtric, who seemed to know exactly who was distracting him.

One day, however, Osferth finally got another chance to get her alone.

He was in the stables again, checking on his horse, and he saw her walking by. He raced out and grabbed her hand, pulling her into the stables. Aoife squealed for a moment before realizing who it was.

"Osferth!" She exclaimed. "What in the heavens was that for?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Osferth said boldly. "We haven't spoken since you injured your hand. Are you better?"

"Yes, yes, much better," Aoife said, looking down to where her hand was before looking back up at him. "I will admit, I rather enjoy your company."

"And I enjoy yours," Osferth said.

The two of them stood in silence for a moment, both looking at each other.

Osferth suddenly couldn't take it anymore. He pulled Aoife back to him, one hand wrapping around her waist and the other grabbing her face and pulling her in for a kiss. Aoife was shocked at first before giving in to his kiss, equally desperate for him. After a few moments, Osferth pulled back slightly, just so his forehead was press against hers.

"That was-"

"I have waited too long," Osferth said.

"You have," Aoife replied. "And I thought you had no experience with women," she remarked, noting how perfect the kiss had been.

"I have had my share of encounters," Osferth said, chuckling. Finan had clearly drilled Osferth's innocence into her head. "But I do not desire that from you. I only desire to be with you, to know you. To one day make you my wife. A kiss is all I desire until I am married to you."

"Are you- asking?"

"Not yet, but one day," Osferth replied. "For now, I would like to hold you and-"

His words were cut off by Aoife pressing her lips up against his, pulling him tight against her body. She was enamored with him, and she kissed him deeply until suddenly, a terrifying voice interrupted them.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY DAUGHTER, YOU- YOU BABY MONK!"

Osferth pulled away, shocked at the loud shout when his eyes landed on a cackling Sihtric and a completely furious look on none other than Finan's face standing just inside the doors to the stables. They had been caught.

"He's going to kill me," Osferth said.

Aoife took one look at her father, who began to move towards them, and she panicked, grabbing Osferth's hand and yanking him out of the stables, pulling him alongside her and into the town, Finan shouting and swearing at Osferth.

"You won't hide forever!" Finan shouted, giving a slight chase before giving up.

As soon as they disappeared out of sight, Aoife pulled him around the back of one of the houses in town and leaned against the wall, laughing and gasping for air at the same time. Osferth was in shock and horrified at his actions.

"Your face!" Aoife exclaimed, laughing.

"He will kill me," Osferth repeated, running his hand through his hair.

"He will only kill you if you lay a hand on me," Aoife said, laughing to herself.

"Then I shall have to step away from you," Osferth said. "As much as I am friends with Finan, I do not wish to die."

Osferth went to take a step backward, but Aoife stopped him.

"I did not say anything about having your lips on mine," Aoife said, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing him.

Osferth shook his head, but he deepened the kiss, finding pure happiness and enjoyment out of having her beside him. The two of them kissed for a moment longer before breaking apart again. Aoife laced her fingers into his hand and smiled wistfully.

"You're beautiful," Osferth said, brushing her hair back from her face. "I will make you mine, even if it is the last thing I do."

But before he could say any more, a loud voice called their attention to where none other than Finan was standing, an angry look on his face. Beside him stood Sihtric, who had a smirk on his face and Uhtred, who was snickering at the position they had caught Osferth and Aoife in.

"Oh, you've got to be joking," Osferth muttered.


	8. (Request) Leofric- The Quiet Dane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Brief attempted assault
> 
> Description: Request by SarahSmiles912 on Wattpad. I cover most introductory things, but for context, Elsif is the blood-sister of Uhtred. After the fire in season 1, she believes that everyone has died. She turns to the south, where she goes to Winchester and finds herself in the protection of Leofric and Father Beocca.
> 
> Word Count: 8185

Elisif was a not-so-ordinary girl, having grown up a Saxon and a Dane. When the Danes had attacked, she had been no more than 8 years old, and she, along with her brother, Uhtred, had been taken into the household of Ragnar the Elder.

He treated them both well, as they were his own children, and Elisif grew to love and respect the man and his family. She was close to another English girl, Brida, and the daughter of Ragnar, Thyra.  
For years she loved them, cherished them, fought for them, and would have died for them. Except, it did not come to that. In only one horrible night, she was forced to grow up. Overnight she had lost her entire family. In the fire, Earl Ragnar was burned, his father, his wife, Thyra, Brida, and her blood-brother Uhtred.

She had been out in the woods late that night, having stolen her father's candle to go read. She had snuck out past the family, and into the woods, the small book she had kept from her childhood in hand when a fire sprang up from the house. She had raced towards it, only to realize that there would be nothing but death for her.

So she fled, quickly, in no particular direction. Elisif ran so far and so fast that the wind dried the tears from her face almost as quickly as they fell. The night became morning and the morning became the afternoon. It was nearly sunset when she collapsed finally on the doorsteps of a brightly-lit farmhouse.

At the sound of something outside on the front steps, the farmer hushed the woman and her son who lived with him before coming to the door with a pitchfork, and opening it slowly. At the sight of the pale, disheveled young woman on their front steps, the woman pushed away the farmer.

"Don't you just stand there looking foolish. Get some water!" She said, pulling Elisif into the house and propping her up in a little armchair.

After dribbling a little water onto Elisif's tongue, her eyes flickered open before becoming frozen in terror at the sight of waking up in an unfamiliar place.

"Don't you worry now, dear. Hush, you're safe here," the woman spoke to Elisif.

Elisif was still frozen, trying to process the events of the day. She looked away from them, her eyes wandering around the small home. As she scanned the place, her eyes landed on none other than a small boy, no more than four years of age.

"Go, go! Fetch some water, Osferth," the woman said.

The little boy ran and got a small pail of water, bringing it over to Elisif. He reached out to her, pail in hand, and she took it gratefully, drinking deeply without saying another word.

After she had drank her fill, the woman handed her a small piece of bread, which Elisif scarfed down ravenously.

"Now, what's your name, girl?" The farmer's wife asked.

"Elisif," she said quietly.

"Elisif? That's a Danish name. We don't want any Danes or their problems around here," The farmer spoke.

"Hush now," The woman spoke. "Let her speak. What happened to you, Elisif?"

"Not sure. There was fighting and a fire. I escaped into the woods. I've been running since the moon was still high in the sky," Elisif replied.

"You didn't bring any trouble with you, did you?" The farmer said gruffly.

"No," Elisif shook her head, beginning to feel a tear fall down her face. "They killed my father. My mother. Even my brother, sister, and everyone in my house. I do not think any have escaped," Elisif bit her lip. "They got what they came for."

It was quiet for a few moments as the man and woman exchanged looks.

"Give us a moment, would you, my dear?" The woman said, a soft smile on her lips as she suddenly grabbed the man by his arm and pulled him into what appeared to be the only bedroom in the tiny farmhouse.

Elisif sat silently for a moment, their voices barely audible as they spoke in hushed whispers, presumably about what to do with her.

For a few moments, Elisif looked around the room, wondering where the little boy had ran off to was hiding.

"Osferth?" She called quietly, remembering the name that he had been called. She stood from her chair and looked behind it, only to see two small blue eyes peering back at her from their hiding place.

"You are Osferth?" Elisif asked the little boy.

He nodded, turning his head slightly as if studying her. She was different than any woman he had ever seen before. She was young, with a strong but small figure. She had long brown hair that was tied   
back into an intricate braid he had never seen on a Saxon before. Her eyes were a deep blue-green, and she wore clothes he had never seen before.

Before he could speak to ask her a question, the talking between the farmer and the woman grew louder.

"I know he is your son, but Alfred told you he has to go to the monastery," the farmer said. "He's a bastard, he has to go. And that girl with him. Tomorrow. I will take them both to Winchester, hand her over to your brother so he may speak to the King in some way, perhaps put her in an abbey, and then Osferth goes straight to the monastery. It's settled, Eadgyth."

"Faenin. Please, he's just a boy! He's my son," she replied.

"For your sake and for his, he will be better off at the monastery, where he can be safe. Then you can forget him and move on with me. We will be wed and have a proper family, and this will all be forgotten," Faenin replied.

"Please-"

"That's enough Eadgyth. I've decided, and that's the end of it.

Suddenly, the door open, and the farmer, Faenin, and the woman, Eadgyth entered the room again. It was clear that Eadgyth was fighting back tears as she looked back and forth between Elisif and the boy, Osferth.

"Tomorrow, you two will be coming with me to Winchester. You," Faenin spoke, pointing to Osferth, "will be dedicated to the church, and to God. And you," he pointed to Elisif, "will meet a man they call Leofric. He is a good man, and will see to it that you are properly taken care of."

Elisif furrowed her brows.

"He is a good man. He is my brother, and I know he can make sure you are safe in Winchester," Eadgyth spoke.

"I am grateful to you for your help, but I must return to my people," she said. "I am a Dane. I do not know Saxons or their ways. I will go seek the great warrior, Ubba, and seek his protection. The gods will protect me until then."

"The gods?" The big man sputtered, clearly becoming less and less controlled as they continued to speak. "No. God. God will protect you. And you will be coming to Winchester, where you will see that the only god is God himself. May He forgive you for your foul ways."

"You have your God, and I have mine," Elisif replied, back towards the door. She could tell that this would not end well.

But her words had already done their damage, and the farmer lept at her. He was much faster and stronger than she had anticipated, and soon she was knocked to the floor. She wriggled in his grasp, clawing, biting, and scratching, desperately trying to get away from the burly man, but he managed to grab her by the head, despite Eadgyth and Osferth's protests and slam her into the floor, and all fell into darkness.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
When Elisif came to, her head was pounding, and she found herself laying on furs in a small, rocking wagon. She looked around, seeing the blur of trees and dimly lit sky as they rolled along before her eyes landed on Osferth, who was crying loudly.

"Oh shut up, you," the voice of the loud, angry farmer came.

Elisif struggled for a second before finding that her arms and legs were bound, and she was frozen in place. It was clearly morning. She must have been knocked out for quite some time. She also found that she was no longer wearing the clothes that she had been in before, and her hair had been taken out of its braid and washed. She clenched her jaw, shuddering at the idea of Faenin touching her at all.

"Oh, you're awake, are you? Good. We'll be in Winchester in a matter of hours, don't you worry your pretty little self. My woman fixed you up nice so that you're presentable in Winchester," the farmer said. 

"May have to take advantage of your new appearance before we reach the gates."

At his words, Elisif gasped, realizing what he meant. She struggled even harder before realizing it was hopeless. She tried to slow her breath, hoping that she would be able to protect herself if the time came. She focused on her family and on the gods, praying for protection from this vile man.

She remained like that for a matter of hours, until she felt the wagon come to a halt. The man dropped down, and she could hear him walking around the wagon, and she quickly looked around, peering over the sides of the wagon. They were in a secluded place, in a patch of dense woods. It appeared that he had moved the wagon off of the path.

"No," she whispered as he appeared at the foot of the wagon. "No."

He snickered, pushing Osferth to the side and telling him to be silent before grabbing Elisif by the legs and dragging her off of the wagon, despite her shouts. She thrashed, but with her legs and arms bound, she could do nothing as he pushed her up against the wagon.

He grunted in frustration.

"I have to untie your legs. No running, you hear?"

Elisif didn't respond. She stood silently as she suddenly felt the ropes disappear from her legs, and the man got into a compromising position beside her, his breath hot on her neck.

"Ever had a Saxo-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Elisif used all of her weight to turn and kick him in the balls before racing away from the man, who was now flustered and screaming in pain behind her. She prayed that the little boy would manage to get away, but she could do nothing for him.

She managed to lose the man in the forest, before realizing she was also completely lost. While she had her skills in surviving the lands of the Danes, this was an area she did not yet fully understand.

She walked for a little while, trying to head north, only to become turned around again. She became frustrated, when suddenly, she heard horses neighing and what sounded like an army heading towards her.

Quickly, she hid behind a tree, praying that she would not be found, but it was too late. The deep blue dress she was now wearing gave her away, and she heard shouts.

"Who goes there!" A strong and loud voice shouted. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again, "We know where you are! Show yourself."

Elisif clenched her jaw and stepped out from behind the tree.

Before her stood a tall man, with a large frame. He wore chain mail, and was sitting atop a large, brown horse, surrounded by a group of soldiers. Immediately Elisif became nervous, knowing that by her presence as a Dane, she could be killed on the spot.

"What are you doing out here, woman?" The man asked.

"I am a Dane!" She called to him, blurting out the one thing she knew she should not have said.

But instead of killing her, he laughed. "You. A Dane?" He laughed even harder, causing his men to laugh with him.

"I am Elisif Ragnarsdottir, the daughter of Earl Ragnar," she said, clenching her fists. "You will not mock me."

At her words, the man stiffened and jumped down from his horse.

"And what is the daughter of a Dane doing down in Winchester? Spying, are you?"

"No," Elisif said, and suddenly her words came pouring out. "My family is dead. There was a great fire, and I ran from it. Last night I stumbled into a home, and the man knocked me out to bring to Winchester. Said I would go to one they call Leofric to be tamed into a Saxon," she spat the last word harshly, but she realized that the man had perked up at the name 'Leofric.'

"What was this man's name?" The man asked, growing more concerned.

"Faelin. And his woman, Eadgyth."

At the mention of Faelin, the man's face in front of her darkened. "She is not his woman."

"He tried to touch me, to use me, but I got away, and that is why I am lost."

"I see," the man raised an eyebrow. "I will take care of Faelin."

Suddenly he turned from her, and spoke quickly to his men before mounting his horse.

"A few of my men will escort you back to Winchester, where we will learn more of your plight," he said before racing away with 6 more men, leaving three behind.

Elisif eyed them skeptically, backing away as one of them dismounted.

"Come with us, Dane," he called, reaching his hand out. "We won't touch you. The man's orders!"

For some reason, Elisif found herself trusting the man. Every instinct in her body told her to run and get away from the Saxon and flee towards the Danes, but instead, she took the man's hand and allowed herself to be lifted up onto the horse and they turned back for Winchester.

Within the hour, she was brought into Winchester and led to a small little room inside of the great castle, and sat down, waiting for the man who led the soldiers to return and speak with her. It appeared as though he was a man of honor, and so she waited patiently.

When he finally appeared, he was dirty, and a small bit of blood was smeared on his face. Elisif said nothing of it and remained silent as he entered the room. He sat in a chair, across a small table from her and looked at her.

"Faelin has been punished," he said. "And the boy has been placed at his monastery."

"Good," Elisif replied, taking her time to really study the man.

Up close, his features came to life. A rugged, tan face, aged with the battles he seemed to have fought in. He was stern, but there appeared to be a twinkle in his eye. Elisif could not deny that he was a   
handsome man, and his strength and power in the room made her feel very small. But she was not afraid of him.

"Your name again, woman?"

"Elisif Ragnarsdottir," she replied.

"You don't look like a Dane," he said. "Are you sure?"

Elisif hesitated. "I was born a Saxon. A long time ago, I was the daughter of Uhtred of Bebbanburg, as was my brother, Uhtred. But when the Danes came, they took me and my brother, and Ragnar took us in, called us his children, and treated us kindly. He is my father now," she trailed off, looking away quickly, realizing what she had said. "He was my father."

The man nodded his head out of respect for her, and pursed his lips for a moment, thinking.

"You're a quiet woman," he said. "Not much the kind of Dane woman I imagined there are out there in the north," he said.

"You have not seen me angry before."

"Hm," the man nodded. "Do you know who I am, Elisif?"

Elisif shook her head.

"I am the King's guard," he said. "One of his best warriors, I should say."

"Does the King's best warrior have a name?"

"Leofric."

Elisif's eyes narrowed at his name. He was the man than Faenin had commended. And she did not trust Faenin.

"Faenin called you a good man," Elisif said quietly. "And yet he himself was not one."

"He's a bloody bastard," Leofric spat, shaking his head. "His words mean no more than a whore's."

At his brash words, Elisif stiffened.

"No mean to offend you, lady," he said. "Just how I feel about him."

"Then we are of one mind," Elisif replied. "If you wish to see a savage, you do not need to look any further than your own neighbor."

"Same could be said for you lot," Leofric said, referring to the Danes. "Although, I do not think you are as Danish as you believe."

Elisif tolled her eyes and looked away, not wanting to carry on her conversation with him any longer.

This gave her the opportunity to glance around the room, at the small wooden bed, the simple wardrobe and the water basin and table. It was nearly barren, but it was simple and workable.

Leofric studied her as she looked around. If it hadn't been for her accent or her insistence on being a Dane, he would have found her to be a proper Saxon woman. Her dress was slightly muddied from running in the woods, her hair was wisped around her face, no longer held by traditional Danish braids. He looked over, noting the lack of jewelry until he spotted her wearing a small piece of amber fashioned into a ring on her finger.

"Where did you get that?"

He watched as Elisif twirled the ring anxiously around her finger and huffed slightly, "My father, Uhtred of Bebbanburg, made his for me when I was born. It's only begun to fit these past few years."  
Her mind began to wander, thinking of her family.

_"Sif! Come on, you're late!" A warm, boyish voice called to Elisif._

_She looked up from where she was reading, realizing the light was dwindling down. She had found a comfortable spot in the stables, tucked out of sight. Before she could gather herself, her Uhtred rounded the corner. They were still young, having been in Ragnar's home for only three years._

_"Well don't just sit there, you've already missed the meal. Didn't you hear us calling for you?" He said, arms across his chest._

_"What?" Elisif cried, jolting upright, and grabbing her tiny book in her hands._

_She raced towards the hall, her brother catching up after her quickly as she hoped to return fast enough to eat the scraps from the table. She burst in through the door, only to run straight into Ragnar. She cried out suddenly in fright before jumping back from him. She did not raise her eyes to look at him, too frightened of what he might do._

_"How many times is that this week, Sigrid?" Ragnar called to his wife._

_"This will be the third," Sigrid replied from where she stood at the table, gathering the bread and scraps of dried meat and fruit to save for the next morning._

_"You understand that you have duties in this house?" Ragnar spoke._

_"Yes," Elisif mumbled, looking down at her feet._

_"Then you will do them, yes?"_

_Again, Elisif nodded._

_"I will take your scribbles," he said, holding out his hand and motioning to the small book she clutched tightly to her chest. "You must earn it back. And you will give up your dinner tonight. It will teach you a valuable lesson."_

_"Please, not my book," Elisif pleaded with him, her eyes going wide with horror. It was her favorite thing. She read it daily, and it was the only thing she had from Bebbanburg._

_"Yes, your book. Your scribbles. I will take them today, and you will earn them tomorrow."_

_Elisif could feel her eyes bubbling with tears, and she slowly outstretched her hand and gave the book to Ragnar. She could feel herself wanting to sob, so instead of embarrassing herself in front of her family, she turned and raced out, going to the stables and hiding in her little corner, pulling her knees to her chest. As she cried, she could feel her stomach rumbling, and it made her cry even harder._

_"Sif," Uhtred's voice spoke again._

_She looked up, realizing that her brother had followed her out. She shook her head and put it back between her knees, sniffling harder._

_"Go away!" She cried._

_"Sif, here."_

_She could feel something tapping her leg, and she looked back up again, seeing her brother handing her a small piece of bread. She gasped and took it gratefully, before scarfing it down. As she ate, her crying lessened until it was just sniffles, and she watched her brother sit properly beside her._

_"I have something for you," he said, reaching into his trousers and pulling out a small ring, causing Elisif to gasp. She eyed it wearily before Uhtred began to explain. "Father made us each a piece of amber when we were born. Even if he was not loving, he did care for us. We are meant to be a lord and lady, and one day, we will go back there for it."_

_"That's- that's mine?" Elisif asked. She watched as Uhtred placed it in her hand. She immediately tried to put it on, as she had seen Sigrid put on her rings and jewelry before, but it was still too big for her tiny hands, so it slipped onto the hay._

_"Careful, sister," Uhtred said. "Do not lose that. Besides the gods, it is what connects us together. We are family, and that is proof of it. Do not lose it."_

"Elisif?" Leofric's voice brought her back to present.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Elisif asked, shaking herself from her thoughts. She found herself choking up, so she stood abruptly and turned away from him, looking out the small window that looked out the courtyard.

Leofric studied the woman carefully as her back was turned. Something about her was sad, yet entirely sweet and beautiful. He was not the happiest or kindest of men, but he knew that he did not like to see her upset. 

"Your family?" He asked, as softly as a brash knight could.

"They- they died," Elisif whispered, her voice barely upon the air. "I have nothing. I have no one. I am in a land I do not know, and I don't know who to trust," she said, turning back to where Leofric still sat, eyeing her closely. The large, silent tears that streamed down her face did not go unnoticed.

"God, or the gods, have not been kind to you."

"I am their plaything, to puppet and destroy as they choose," Elisif replied. She hesitated for a moment before giving in to her desire for support. "What should I do, Leofric? Tell me that. Do I remain here, an outcast? Do I return to the Danes, if I am even allowed to leave the walls of Winchester? Do I go into a river where I cannot swim and drown? Will your king have my head?"

Leofric sighed, realizing that she was too exhausted to make any good decisions.

"Rest. You need to rest," he said. "I have sent for a priest, who will escort you to the abbey where you will rest tonight. Tomorrow I will come to you and tell you the King's decision. 

"And if he is to kill me?" She whispered.

"Then you will see me coming, sword drawn," Leofric spoke, hating that he had to say those words. "I will do my best to protect you, but I cannot promise your safety here."  
Elisif pursed her lips and nodded. Before she could say anymore, there was a knock on the door. Leofric dipped his head to her before scraping his chair backwards and opening the door to reveal a nearly completely bald priest.

"Hello, my name is- bless my eyes! Elisif? My child?" He spoke.

"Father? Father Beocca?" Elisif lit up as she suddenly recognized the face of her father's priest in Bebbanburg. "You live?"

"As do you?" Beocca replied, when suddenly, Elisif ran towards him and pulled him into a large embrace. He held her for a moment before giving pulling back and looking her over. "How you've grown, child!"

"And you haven't changed at all, Father," Elisif replied. She turned to look to where Leofric was staring at them, completely confused.

"What the hell have I missed here?" He asked. 

Father Beocca gave him a stern look for his language. "I've known her since she was a child. When she was of Bebbanburg. She used to follow me around, begging me to read to her until I finally decided to teach her to read." He shook his head, chuckling at the thought. Then he frowned and looked at Elisif. "Where is your brother? When we last spoke he-"

Elisif bit her lip and shook her head. “There was a fire. Earl Ragnar and everyone were inside. I- I do not think Uhtred survived the fire," she whispered. "That is why I am here. I have nowhere to go."

"Oh, my child," Father Beocca whispered. "Come, it seems we have much to discuss. And I should like to arrive at the abbey as early as possible, so that you may know your way around."

Elisif pursed her lips, "I do not wish to be a nun."

Leofric chuckled. "Oh, they will not make you a nun. I don't think you would let them. Just do the prayers and follow their instructions and they will see to it you're taken care of."

Elisif nodded and thanked Leofric quickly before moving towards the door. She smiled at Father Beocca as they made their way from the room and out through the castle.

Father Beocca showed her around, and they spoke much about their time apart. She learned of many of the things that had happened to him since the Danes had arrived in the north. Beocca showed her the town, despite the eyes of the townspeople staring at them. They had never seen a Dane anywhere other than the battlefield, and the sight of one in their town terrified them, regardless of how Saxon she appeared.

When they arrived at the abbey, Elisif was cautious, and she noted again, the stares and whispers of the women there. Once Father Beocca parted from her, the women left her alone and to her own devices. 

She sat down, and for the first moment in a long while, she could breathe. She was able to think about all of the things that had happened the past two days. Her adrenaline began to falter, and she curled up onto the small cot that had been set up for her. Slowly but surely, she began to feel her eyes water, and tears streaming silently down her face until she was sobbing onto the cot, her pained cries filling the room. She was finally mourning the loss of her family. And then she vowed to have her revenge no matter the cost.

As the night closed around her, she finally fell into a restless sleep.

The next morning, Elisif was woken by a nun, and shortly after being led to her morning meal, she was put to work in the garden, unaware that there was someone watching her.

Leofric had arrived at the abbey early, having been given the decision by the king. As he approached, he saw a few women in the garden, and he stopped as he saw Elisif stand from where she was and move around to another patch. He could hear over the wind someone humming, and it appeared as though it may have been her.

He found himself looking at her lustfully. As if he had never seen or humped a woman as beautiful as he found her. But he quickly swatted those feelings away, knowing that she had no interest in him like that. He sighed and began to walk towards the garden.

"I have news," Leofric said as he approached Elisif. She looked up from where she was in the garden, picking some vegetables for the night's meal. 

"Leofric! You are here early," she said, finding happiness in seeing him. He was the first Saxon man to be kind and gentle to her, and for that she was grateful. "You haven't come to-"

"No, no, you are safe, but we should speak. In private," he said, looking around to where all of the nuns were clearly listening in on their conversation.

Heeding this, Elisif nodded and pulled him out of the garden and towards a small, empty courtyard. Once they were alone, she turned and studied his face. It was somber and strained, as if he were to deliver bad news.

“What has happened?” She asked quietly. “Tell me.”

“The king came to a decision I do not think you will like.”

“Do not dance around it, tell me,” Elisif demanded, finding herself getting angry. “Leofric.”

“Since you are a Dane, he wishes to see you become Saxon, either by becoming Christian, or by marrying one,” Leofric said.

“No. I will not dedicate myself to your god, nor will I marry a Saxon. I will leave this place and seek Ubba, since now I know of the hatred of Danes by Saxons,” she said. “I thank you for your protection, you are a good man, but I must leave.”

“Elisif, I don’t think you understand. The King will not let you leave. He has placed guards at every entrance. If they see you leaving, they will kill you.”

At his words, Elisif froze. “No. No! I will speak with your king. I will speak with him!” And at that, she bolted out of the room, racing up toward the castle, despite Leofric’s protests.

When she approached the castle, she noticed that there was a tall man, with a crown upon his head speaking with a smaller, paler man, who had brown hair, and clasped his hands together standing in a courtyard lined with guards.

“How dare you!” Elisif shouted, almost upon them. She stared at the man with the crown. “How dare yo-“ she was cut off as Leofric grabbed her, just as two guards stepped between her and the King, pointing their sharp spears at her face.

“Ah, you must be the Dane woman,” the king spoke, waving the guards off. Leofric kept a tight grip on Elisif’s waist. “You do not know me yet.”

“I do not want to,” Elisif spat.

“Hold your tongue, Dane,” the smaller man beside the king spoke.

‘If I may speak, brother,” the king spoke. He waited for silence before turning towards Elisif. “I am King Aethelred. This is my brother, Alfred. You seem to be in my lands, under my protection, is that not true?”

Elisif clenched her teeth.

“Therefore, for you to have received my protection, I desire something in return. And that is your commitment. You will not leave until you repay that debt.”

“One night! I must repay one night of protection with my life?” Elisif balked. “I cannot. I will not. You must ask something else of me.”

“I am afraid there is nothing else. You will not change my mind. I will give you three days to find a suitor or decide to remain in the abbey. If you do not do this, then I will find a suitor for you.”

“And if I refuse to marry him?” 

“Then you will be dead by morning.”

At that, the king turned, and nodded to his brother. The two of them began to walk away, but just before they rounded the corner, the king spoke again.

“You have three days.”

As soon as the King had made his way out of sight, Elisif ripped herself from Leofric. She turned to face him, her blood beginning to boil.

“You knew! When I arrived, you knew what he would ask of me!”

“You should calm yourself.”

At that statement, Elisif reached her hand up and slapped him across the face.

As soon as she had done that, she realized that it was a mistake, but the damage had already been done. Leofric grabbed her wrist and pulled her in close, his voice becoming dark.

“I vouched for you. He wanted to execute you on the spot to demonstrate his strength to the Danes, but he graciously gave you options to let you live. Do not make him regret it.”

“I’m sorry,” Elisif said quietly. “I don’t want to live a life that I hate.”

Leofric let go of her and sighed. “I don’t envy you.

“I do not know. I do not wish to give up my gods, and I know they will take everything I have left of my family. But I do not wish to be tied to anyone. I do not wish to be married,” Elisif shook her head. “I have much to think about.”

Over the next three days, Elisif tried to sort through her options. She barely ate, and sleep never came to her. She was exhausted, upset, angry at her new fate and at the gods for toying with her. Leofric and Beocca came to her often, trying to help her in any way that they could.

On one such instance, Leofric came, and she fell asleep while crying on his shoulder, and he let her sit there until she woke again nearly an hour later.

The last evening finally arrived, and there was a knock at her door. The King had sent two guards, and they brought her to the throne room, where King Aethelred sat, his brother at his side.

“Have you come to a decision?” He spoke as soon as Elisif arrived at the throne.

“Yes,” Elisif said clearly. She sighed, thinking of the last few moments of her freedom. “I will wed whoever you choose.”

“That is wonderful news. And you do not have a suitor yourself?”

Elisif shook her head.

“Well that is rather unfortunate, as I have asked who of my people desires the Dane as their wife, and no one has stepped forth. There is no suitor for you, so you will become a nun.”

“What? No!” Elisif balked. “You swore to me that I could choose!”

“If you do not become a nun, then you choose death,” the king replied. He motioned to the guards to approach her, but before they could, there was a shout.

“Wait! Wait my king,” Leofric’s booming voice rang around the room. “I will marry her. She will be my wife.”

At his words, Elisif turned and looked at him. She frowned, not wanting to put him under that kind of pressure onto one of the only men who had bothered to care for her while she was in Winchester.

“No,” she whispered.

But it was too late. The king accepted Leofric’s words and declared that they would be wed that very moment.

“What?” Leofric and Elisif demanded at the same time.

“Wed? Now? With no ceremony, no honor, no-“ Elisif exclaimed.

“Yes, now,” the King spoke, standing and motioning them down to the front. “I will unite you under God, and you will go to the house that has been prepared for you, and live there until the day that you die.”

Elisif had no choice. The ceremony was short, crude, and without celebration. As much as she was grateful that Leofric had stepped in for her, she found herself saddened and unable to meet his eyes as he placed a kiss to her cheek to seal their union.

They were then escorted from the castle to their new house. The moment they stepped into their house and were out of the prying eyes of the soldiers, Elisif ripped herself away from him. 

“This is too much. This is too much,” she said. “It has been five days, five days since my family has died, and now I am in Saxon land with Saxon people who hate me and I have to warm the bed of a   
strange Saxon man who I barely know. What have I done to make the gods hate me so much?”

She plopped down in her seat, and began to sob, her tears quickly staining her dress. The deed was done, and she had been tied down, and her freedom ripped from her.

Leofric didn't know what to do. He stood there for a moment, just in the door of their new home before sighing in frustration.

"This is what you think of me?” He asked. “After I lost some of my own freedoms this evening?”

“No, Leofric, please, that’s not what I mea-“

“I'm going for a drink," he cut her off before leaving the house, and slamming the door shut behind him.

As soon as he left, Elisif began to sob even harder. She needed someone to come to her, but she knew that they would be left alone for the rest of the night after the wedding. For hours, she sat in the chair, abandoned and alone in the kitchen until suddenly, the door burst open, late into the night, to reveal a drunken Leofric.

Immediately, Elisif jumped up as he looked at her hungrily, begin to fear for herself. He was piggishly drunk.

"There were women in the bar," he slurred. "But I had to tell them I have a wife now. And a beautiful one at that." He frowned, noticing the terrified look on her face. "I'm not touching you until you want it," he said, shaking his head. "I'm going to sleep. You take the bed."

He went over to the chair in the kitchen and sat down before slumping over and laying his head on the table. Within seconds, he was fast asleep. Elisif relaxed, realizing that he was not a dishonorable man.

"Thank you," she whispered before retreating to the only bedroom in the small home. When she woke up, Leofric was gone, and in his place was a large chest full of both dresses and his uniforms. It was also full of anything they might need for their new home.

Instead of focusing on the negatives, Elisif took a deep breath and put herself to work arranging the house so that it felt more like home. She put away her dresses and Leofric’s spare uniform in a tiny wardrobe that had been furnished for them before tidying up the house as she had always done with Sigrid and Thyra not so long ago.

As the day went on, she realized that she had nothing for supper, and so she decided it best to go to the market and use a few coins to purchase food for them. It was not much, but it was enough to buy a few ingredients to sustain them for a few days. She decided it best to hide her face for fear of being recognized as a Dane. She was happy that no one noticed her coming and going around the market and before she knew it she was heading to the house.

Once she returned, she began to cook a small supper for herself and for Leofric. And before she knew it, she was setting it on the table just as the door opened to reveal a dirty Leofric.

“Wash up, please,” she said to him, putting a smile on her face as best she could,

Leofric was stunned at the sight in front of him. His new wife, setting out a cup and pouring wine into it, her hair pinned back from her face so that she could work. The smell of stew on the air.

“What have I done to earn this?” Leofric asked as he turned to where there was a small bowl on the counter, full of clean water. He used it to quickly wash and dry his face.

“I wanted to apologize,” Elisif spoke. “For my words last night.”

“I should be the one to apologize,” Leofric replied, beginning to eat his food. “I was drunk on our wedding night. Although it was not much of a wedding.”

Elisif scoffed, “No it was not. But it is done, and the matters are final. We should learn to be agreeable despite the circumstances.”

Leofric nodded.

And so it went, their evening was full of conversation, and Leofric began to soften his brash behavior as they spoke, and Elisif livened up, telling him stories from her home and from her family and friends.

It was amicable, and Elisif found herself growing fond of him. His broad and sharp features did not hurt either.

Time passed, and a day turned into a week, and a week into a month. They were friendly, although certainly not without their fights. They both had their tempers, and their anger flared often with one another, but they managed to resolve it quickly. 

One day, Leofric discovered that he had been given the day off, and Elisif was insistent on going beyond the walls on Winchester. She had been cooped up for far too long, and she desired nothing more than to run and shout and bathe in the clean waters of the lake not too far from the walls.

And so they packed a few items in a basket and left Winchester, taking the day to spend together. Elisif was nervous, as it was the first time that she had to spend more than a few hours with him, but she was hoping that this might help them both.

Leofric watched her often-sad demeanor fall away as soon as they left the walls of Winchester. It was almost as though she had been freed from a cage. She began to smile more, she was quicker to laugh, and she even went as far as to tease him.

Every time she laughed, he found himself chuckling along with her. He had never been a man to settle down, but in this moment, he was completely happy.

They arrived at the lake after a few minutes of walking and found a secluded area where they would be able to bathe. Elisif suddenly remembered that she would need to remove her clothes in front of him, and she turned pink.

“What is it?” Leofric asked as he began to set down their things. He raised an eyebrow as she looked to the water and then wrapped her arms around her chest. “I can turn away until you get in,” he said.

“Oh, thank you,” Elisif said, nodding vigorously. They had yet to consummate their marriage, and she was nervous for him to see her.

He turned away from her, and she quickly shed her dress and stepped into the cool water. As soon as she had become completely submerged, she called for him to join her.

She watched as he shed his clothes, her eyes looking over his body. There were many scars that littered the surface of his skin, but she did not care. She could not take her eyes off of him.

As he joined her in the lake, she finally turned away slightly, realizing that she had been staring for a long while. She ran her hands through her hair, washing out the dirt and grime before turning to see   
him watching her.

“What?” She called to him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

Elisif blushed and looked away, “Thank you.”

“And what of me?” He asked. “Did you like what you saw?

Elisif laughed and turned back to him, swimming so that she was only a few feet away from him. “Perhaps,” she rolled her eyes. “But I like many other things about you.”

“And they are?” He prompted.

“You’re brash but kind, strong, you make me laugh. I enjoy my time with you,” she continued to think, not realizing that Leofric had floated even closer to where she was.

“We think the same things of each other, then,” Leofric replied.

“Really?” Elisif asked. “You find me brash?”

Leofric chuckled. “That’s not what I meant.”

Suddenly, she realized close she was to him. He was merely a foot away, but he still had not touched her. He was making sure that she was comfortable, and she realized how much she did care for him.   
The more time they spent talking, laughing, telling stories, the more she was drawn to him. Despite the horror of the fire and the sadness of her family's death, she had found happiness here, with him at her side. She looked up into his eyes, realizing how close they were before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down into a deep kiss.

Almost immediately, he replied in kind, pulling her close to him, wanting to feel her beside him. He had not realized how much he desired her. Despite the circumstances, they both had come to enjoy each other's presence, finding happiness in each other's arms. Neither of them had to speak it, but they both knew that they had found a kind of affection they both desired.  
Leofric deepened the kiss, pulling her so that their skin was touching under the water, and soon enough his hands were roaming her body. Despite the water around them, they were on fire.  
Leofric pulled her from the water, and they laid together for the first time, the warmth of their admiration and desire for one another growing with each touch. Elisif was happy and safe in his arms, and she was content.

They stayed there at the lake for a long while, taking in each other’s bodies and souls. Elisif realized that she had grown to love him. And finally, they were united as one, their love for one another finally showing through their actions.

They relished in the moment before packing up their things and return to their home in Winchester.

That evening, as they were both in their nightclothes, Elisif took Leofric’s hand and pulled him to her.

“I am your wife, and I wish for you to sleep with me,” she said, motioning to the bed. “I think that it would bring me comfort this night and all the nights from now on.”

Leofric nodded his head and allowed himself to be led to their bed. He closed his eyes, wrapping his arm around her, her head resting on his chest as they fell into a peaceful sleep as husband and wife.

Another month went by, and they fell into a comfortable routine, being blissfully happy. There was one day that changed their lives for the good. 

Leofric heard humming as he arrived back at their home one evening, and he smiled to himself, smelling the scent of porridge and lavender at the door. When he entered, he saw Elisif placing a few things on the table for supper.

At the sound of him entering, she turned, her face shining with joy.

“I did not expect to see you so happy to see me,” Leofric chuckled, causing Elisif to roll her eyes.

“I am happy to see you, but I also have good news,” she whispered, approaching him and letting him kiss her forehead. “The gods did not make me bleed this month. And today when I woke after you left,   
I was sick. Leofric, do you know what that means?”

Leofric hesitated, his chest pounding quickly.

“Are you-?”

“I am with child,” she whispered. “Our child.”

At her words, Leofric looked at her, stunned, before pulling her up into his arms and twirling her around the house as she giggled at his antics.

"To think that I did not want to be married," Elisif said quietly as he set her down. "I had never been taken with someone before."

"And now?" Leofric asked. "Do I live up to any of your expectations?"

Elisif stepped back, thinking. She looked him up and down and began to think of all the reasons she still admired him, despite her initial unwillingness in marriage.

"Come on, woman, I can't be a complete bastard," Leofric said, which earned him a warm smile. "Ah, your smile suits you."

"You are the only person who gives me reason to smile," Elisif replied. "Despite our strange arrangement at first, you were still kind and gentle despite your brash words. You have cared for me since the moment we met, and I am grateful. You do make me smile, and laugh, even when I do not feel like it."

"And I am tolerable to you now, my wife?" Leofric finally spoke, breaking the kiss.

"I should hope so, for the sake of our child,”Elisif replied, chuckling at his words. "I could not wish for anything more."

"I can only hope to earn your respect and love each day," Leofric said, taking her hand in his, and pulling her in for an embrace. She laid her head against his chest and sighed contentedly.

"You already have, my love. You already have."


End file.
